And You Could Have It All
by cucoo4cas
Summary: Prequel to "My Empire of Dirt." This takes place three years prior. Dean and Sam are homeless, Charlie and Dorothy don't know each other or the boys, Castiel is starting college, and Gabriel is doing his best in a bad situation. Dean/Lisa, Samifer, Charthy, Gabe/Kali, unrequited Destiel TRIGGERS: Self-Harm, Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Depression, Abandonment.
1. Peace of Mind

Son of a bitch. Dean Winchester sat at a table in the back of the Roadhouse, eyes glued to the papers in his hands. This wasn't fake. This was a real thing. Holy shit.

He'd taken Sam to their monthly visit with DCFS to make sure Dean was keeping Sammy fed and clothed properly. Honestly, it was pretty easy since Dean wouldn't let anything bad happen to that kid. But today, he'd been handed a piece of paper that still hadn't been able to sink into his brain fully. Once every six months, Bobby and Ellen let Dean pretend he and Sam lived in their loft above the Roadhouse in order to skip the whole effective-guardians-aren't-homeless dilemma, but this piece of paper was going to change that. It could change everything.

Today, as they sat down with their DCFS worker, the woman asked Dean, "Do you know a Mary Winchester?"

Dean's heart had stopped for a bit. He could still remember her golden hair and her warm smile. He could still feel her arms around him, hugging him when he'd had a nightmare.

"Yeah," Dean had said, "That's our mom." Sam had been just as confused as Dean as they were given a manila envelope.

"Apparently, these people have been trying to get this to you for some time. It's a good thing you're registered with us, or they might not have gotten this to you at all," their worker had said.

Dean still couldn't believe it. Mary Winchester had been dead for fifteen years, and she was still looking out for them. A trust fund. Dean Winchester, whose luck was laughable at best, had been handed paperwork for a trust fund that had been left to him and Sam. Apparently, Dean had gained access to the trust fund when he'd turned twenty-one, except Dean wasn't actually twenty-one yet. Legally speaking, he was twenty-two, but that was just what he'd said on the documents he'd had to fill out when he enrolled Sam in school in the city. Really, he had just turned nineteen a few days ago. Still, early access to a trust fund was nothing he was going to question.

He just couldn't believe it. They'd been on the street for so long. He still needed to meet with the bank person to discuss the trust fund and how the funds would be used, but with the numbers staring back at him from the paperwork, Dean and Sam could definitely afford an apartment. They could have a roof for a change, maybe even a bed. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. Dean just couldn't help feeling giddy, though. It didn't matter what catch there was, this could be just enough for them to have a home for the first time in a long time, and that was enough to keep a smile plastered on Dean's face. Holy shit, they could have a home.

Jo walked over to the table holding a tray full of drinks.

"Hey, handsome," Jo said, "What's that?"

Dean couldn't bring himself to put the papers away. It was just too good to be true. If he put them back in the envelope, they might vanish. How could explain to Jo what these papers were? They were his life, Sam's life. They were any chance either of them had for a future.

"I got access to my mom's trust fund," Dean said, not sure if his voice was betraying just how in awe of all of this he was, "Sam and I-we-holy shit, Jo."

Jo sat quickly in the seat across from Dean earning her some dirty looks from the patrons whose drinks she was holding hostage. "What? Are you serious? What are you going to do?" Jo asked, excited.

"We're gonna get an apartment for one thing," Dean said.

Jo asked, "Are you gonna go back to school?"

Dean had gotten his GED with the help of Bobby and Ellen, but college was a total pipe dream. Son of a bitch, he could probably afford to go to college. Maybe not go enough for a full degree, but he could still go. Holy fucking shit.

"I don't know," Dean said, "I still have to meet with the banker and go over all of this, but maybe. I mean, if there's enough money to cover everything, maybe."

Jo squealed, jumped up, and hugged Dean tightly. "This is so exciting! I'm so happy for you!" she said happily.

Ellen looked up from wiping down the bar and said, "Jo, our customers still need their drinks. Hop to it."

Jo ignored her mom and asked Dean, "Does Sam know? Is he super excited? I can't wait to see him, he's probably beaming."

Ellen slung the rag over her shoulder and headed over to give her daughter a piece of her mind as Dean said, "Sam was there when we got the papers, but I had to walk him to school right away. He doesn't know yet."

"Tell him here," Jo said, "I need to see his face."

"What's going on?" Ellen asked.

Jo picked up the drinks and hurried off before her mom could glare at her anymore.

Dean explained, "I just found out my mom set up a trust fund for me and Sam. I just got the paperwork this morning."

"May I?" Ellen asked, holding out a hand for the papers.

Dean did not want to let go of the paperwork. He didn't want to hand them over and have Ellen find a reason this was all really too good to be true. He gave the envelope and paperwork to Ellen and held his breath.

Ellen read over the documents quickly, eyes slightly widening at the trust fund amount. "Wow, honey, this looks promising. I'm happy for you boys," she said warmly.

Dean took the envelope and papers back, smiling like an idiot. This could work. This could really work.

"We can probably afford to pay you and Bobby back now," Dean said, ever conscious of the kindness the pair had done for him and Sam over the years.

Ellen laughed and said, "Don't be silly, Dean. You can pay us back by taking care of yourselves with that trust fund."

Dean hugged Ellen, not sure if words could express how truly grateful he was to them. Without Bobby and Ellen, Sam and Dean would probably have gotten separated or ended up dead. He owed them everything.

After Ellen pulled away, she asked, "How come your daddy didn't know about this?"

Dean didn't flinch. He tried not to think about his dad too often, and he could talk about him now without much difficulty. There were still nights that he'd hear that gunshot ringing through his ears throughout the night, but he was still really glad he didn't flinch. "I don't know," he said, "Maybe my mom never told him."

Ellen smiled and said, "I'm so happy for you. Glad to see something going right for a change."

Dean nodded as the Roadhouse phone rang. The clock on the wall said it was just about time for Sam to be getting out of school. Bobby picked up the phone behind the bar, said a few words, nodded at Dean, and hung up. Dean put the papers back in the envelope, fastened it, and waved goodbye to Ellen as he went to pick up Sam.

The school was only a few blocks away, but it felt like an eternity in the cold winter air. Dean pulled his jacket tighter around him, feeling the envelope inside his jacket resisting the motion. He wouldn't dare crumple the envelope, though. Its contents were much too precious.

Walking up to Sam's high school, Dean saw Sam kiss a girl goodbye. She was a little too butch for Dean's taste, but considering Sam had been with full on guys before, Dean wasn't entirely surprised.

"So, who was that?" Dean asked as Sam got closer.

Sam blushed, and it made Dean wait to pull out the manila envelope. Now, he really was curious.

"Just a friend," Sam said.

"Just a friend?" Dean said, almost laughing with skepticism, "You sure used a lot of tongue with your friend over there."

Sam rolled his eyes with an embarrassed smile and said, "She's my girlfriend. I mean, we've only been dating for a couple of days, but she's really nice."

Dean grinned as they walked back towards the Roadhouse. "Your girlfriend got a name?" he asked.

"Her name's Lucy," Sam said.

"Nice," Dean said.

"You're not going to make fun of me?" Sam asked.

Dean gave Sam a sideways glance and asked, "Why would I make fun of you for having a girlfriend?"

"Because you're you," Sam said.

Dean sighed and said, "I'm not going to make fun of you for having a girlfriend. Besides, we have more important things to talk about."

"What was in the envelope?" Sam asked quickly.

Dean laughed and said, "Just about the best thing ever, but Jo wants to see your face when you find out, so I can't tell you yet."

"Since when do you ever listen to what Jo wants?" Sam protested.

"You make a valid point, Sammy," Dean said, "But since we're already here..."

Dean opened the door to the Roadhouse, letting Sam slip inside.

Jo was busy taking an order in the back of the building near the foosball table, and Dean was just not going to wait longer. "Okay, Sam, brace yourself," he said.

Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes, swallowing anxiously.

Dean said, "It's the paperwork for a trust fund. Mom left us a goddamn trust fund."

"What does this mean?" Sam asked, his hesitant smile already hitting his eyes.

"It means we're getting an apartment for starters," Dean said.

"An apartment?" Sam asked, smile turning up to megawatt voltage.

Dean nodded excitedly.

Sam hugged Dean tightly, and it was all Dean could do not to cry right there.

They'd been on the streets ever since their dad had died four years ago, and now, finally, it looked like they'd be able to have a real home. But as it was, Dean still needed to meet with the banker, and they were still on the streets. A light at the end of the tunnel was really something, though.

Dean released Sam, who was instantly hugged tightly by Jo. They still had a few hours before they needed to get to a shelter, so Dean let Sam enjoy the Roadhouse. He couldn't believe there was a day coming that wouldn't be dictated by when shelters closed for the night. But it was, and God was Dean ready for it.


	2. Ready for Love

The bank was enormous. Sam had seen the building before, but he'd never gone inside. This place was huge. Embroidered rugs covered the floors of cushy lounge areas next to the main entrance. Sam looked up at the chandelier hanging above his head. It looked amazing, bright and shining. Everything in this place looked beautiful.

Dean scowled at the surroundings, and Sam knew exactly why. This stuff could probably feed a lot of people for a long time, and yet here it was, laying in a bank to look pretty. Sam nudged Dean, and Dean's expression softened.

They walked up to the front desk, and Dean said to the woman behind the desk, "I was hoping to see a banker about a trust fund we have here."

The woman nodded politely, giving both Dean and Sam a winning smile and a not so subtle once over. "If you take a seat in the waiting area, someone will be able to help you shortly," she said.

Before Dean and Sam could even turn around, a man in a far too nice suit said, "I can help you with your trust fund over here."

The man, Dick, apparently, looked over the paperwork and pulled up a file on his computer. "What were you thinking of using these funds for?" he asked, typing copious things into the computer.

"Rent," Dean said quickly, "For an apartment."

"In the city?" Dick asked.

Dean nodded and said, "If possible, yeah." Dick clicked a few things in the computer that made Sam really wish he could see the screen.

"The average amount of rent in Chicago right now is $1,000 per month. If you take out rent for a year, that would leave you with...$28,000 per year," Dick said.

"Per year?" Sam asked, gaping, "How many years? How much is in this account?"

"Well, strictly speaking, the account is quite large," Dick said, jotting down some numbers on a piece of paper and sliding it towards Sam. It was a large number. A very large number. Sam's heart just about stopped.

"However," Dick continued, "Our bank policy makes it impossible to receive more than $40,000 a year from any account."

"Still, $28,000 a year is enough for you to go to school," Dean said to Sam.

Sam nodded and said, "Yeah, you could, too."

"Or we could do important things with it," Dean said, "Like buying food."

Sam looked from Dean to Dick and asked, "Can I have a word with my brother for a minute?"

Dick nodded patiently. Sam pulled Dean up by his jacket and led him away from Dick's desk.

"Dean, if we have the money for you to go to school, you should do it," Sam said.

"Sam, I don't know. I don't need to go back to school. I didn't even like it the first time," Dean said.

Sam sighed and said, "I think we should both go to college. We can get jobs to pay for food or whatever. We've gotten by on less than that so far."

"I don't know, Sammy-" Dean started.

Sam cut him off and said, "Dean, think about it. This trust fund is eventually going to run out. I'd really feel better knowing we used it to go to college and have careers so none of this happens again."

Dean appraised Sam for a moment, and there was a split second that Sam swore he looked just like their father. Sam gave the look right back to Dean. He wasn't going to back down about this. Dean deserved to get an education. They'd figure the rest out.

Dean nodded and said, "Alright. Fine. The trust fund covers rent and college for both of us."

Sam grinned and walked back with his brother to the banker's desk.

A half hour later, paperwork was filled out, hands were shook, and just like that, Sam and Dean had a checking account that the funds would be transferred into on a monthly basis.

They were actually going to have a shot at this.

Sam was practically skipping on the way to school.

So much so, in fact, that he almost literally ran into Lucy. "Hey, Sam," she said, slightly flustered at the tall Winchester suddenly invading her personal space.

"Hey," Sam said, backing up, "Sorry, I didn't see you."

Lucy grinned and said, "No problem, Sam. What has you all smiley today?"

They walked over to Sam's locker as he said, "It's...umm...it's kind of hard to talk about. Tell you in free period?"

Lucy's smile quirked up delightedly. "Okay, I have to get to class anyway," she said, "See you then."

Sam dropped his bag in his locker, grabbed his books, and made sure to spin the lock a few times to ensure no one broke in. It wasn't that his bag had anything of value in it, but it did have his only tooth brush, his spare change of clothes that he and Dean had learned to get creative with so no one would wonder why Sam wore the same stuff over and over, and his library card. If he lost that bag, his life would suck a lot worse. Soon, Sam wouldn't have to worry about that, though. Soon, they'd have an apartment.

Sam was so excited that he spent both of his morning classes daydreaming, and by the time he reached his free period, Sam could not for the life of him remember anything either of his teachers had said.

Sam waved to Lucy in the cafeteria and headed over to her.

"So, about this morning," Sam said, "I have to tell you something, but you can't tell anybody, or I could get in a lot of trouble."

Lucy put her hand on Sam's shoulder and said, "You can trust me, Sam. I don't have anybody to tell anyway."

Sam grabbed Lucy's hand and led her into an empty hallway. He glanced around to make sure no hall monitors were nearby.

"I have a confession to make," Sam said, "I'm homeless."

"What?" Lucy gasped.

Sam ignored her reaction and said, "This morning, Dean and I found a way to get an apartment, so we aren't going to be homeless anymore, and I'm still really, ridiculously excited."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're getting a place, but Sam, you're homeless? How are you even in school right now? Why aren't you in the foster system or something?" Lucy asked.

Sam shook his head and said, "It's complicated. But it doesn't matter now. We're getting an apartment." Nothing could get the smile off of Sam's face, absolutely nothing. They were finally going to have a home. Maybe he and Dean could even learn to be a family again. He couldn't wait.

"Well, while we're in the sharing mood, I have to tell you something, too," Lucy said, a note of gravity present in her voice.

Sam looked at her, and for the first time that day, he saw that her hands were shaking. Her eyes were darting, too. She looked nervous if not downright terrified.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, concerned.

Lucy pulled Sam into the boys' bathroom. Now, Sam was doubly confused. "What-" he started.

Lucy said quickly, "I'm transgender."

Sam had to search his brain for the definition of that word for a moment. He remembered reading about it when he'd first realized his own sexual preference.

"So, you're a guy in a girl's body?" Sam asked. Honestly, it was just a guess. He'd never seen Lucy naked. For all he knew, she actually had male genitalia.

Lucy nodded and said, "Yeah. I...I just sort of figured it out this year. I mean, I've always felt different, but I'm definitely a guy, just, y'know, not on the outside."

That sort of made sense, actually. Lucy was pretty tall for a girl, she even had the broad shoulders of a guy. Her voice was a bit deeper than Sam had expected when they first talked, and she seemed opposed to wearing form fitting clothing.

"Well, cool," Sam said, realizing Lucy was still waiting for a reaction.

"Really?" Lucy asked, scrutinizing Sam's face carefully.

Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, it's cool that you figured that out. And it kind of makes sense."

"What do you mean?" Lucy asked.

Sam said, "It makes sense, because you're the first girl I've been attracted to in a couple of years. I'm not sure if I'd consider myself gay, but I'm definitely more into guys, so the fact that you're actually a guy, well, it makes sense."

Lucy crushed his lips to Sam's, and really, that was probably the best reaction Sam had ever gotten to coming out. Sam kissed him back, pushing him up against the sinks. Lucy flipped them around so Sam was against the sink, kissing him harder.

After a few moments, when Sam's lips were sufficiently numb, he pulled back from Lucy and asked, "So, male pronouns?"

Lucy nodded and kissed Sam again. Sam ran his hands up Lucy's back. Lucy's hands busied themselves in Sam's hair, which just felt so amazing, Sam could barely get his brain to function.

When they came up for air next, Sam asked, "Are you keeping the name Lucy, or do you want me to call you something else?"

Lucy, slightly short of breath, said, "I like my name. I mean, putting gender to names is kind of stupid anyway, but I don't know. Maybe I could go by Lucian or something."

"Lucian's a good name," Sam said.

"Nah, I like Lucy. Here, tell you what, call me Lucy, but if you ever write it down, write it with an 'I' instead of a 'Y'. That way it could be short for something masculine," Luci said.

Sam grinned and said, "Luci with an I. I like it. So, Luci, does this make us boyfriends?"

Luci grabbed Sam's hand and said, "Definitely."

Sam made a move to leave the bathroom, but Luci stopped him and pushed him up against the tiled wall, kissing him fervently. This. This was something Sam could get used to.


	3. Walking On Sunshine

Charlie walked quickly through through the busy Chicago streets. Fuck, it was cold. Winter always made her want to move south. It wasn't like she had anything to stay for anyway. Well, except for the city. She loved the buildings and the energy regardless of any wind chill factor. Still, it was freaking cold.

Charlie shoved her hands in the pockets of her cargo pants and thanked her good fortune that she'd found a sweater earlier in the week. It wasn't a winter jacket or anything, but sleeves were definitely nothing to scoff at. She hustled along, trying to decide how best to sneak onto the Jackson CTA platform.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. A crumpled up dollar bill wedged against the wheel of a dumpster. Charlie tried to keep out of alleys usually, but money meant food. She peered into the alley. If she got jumped, it'd be a bad day for them. It's not like she had anything to steal anyway.

Charlie hurried over to the dumpster and snatched up the dollar. It wasn't a dollar, though. It was ten. Perfect! This could pay for a full meal, maybe more if she got creative with the dollar menu at McDonald's.

She pocketed the money quickly and headed to the Jackson tunnel. Right away, she spotted a group of teenagers heading for the train. She melded into their group and hopped the turnstile effortlessly, whooping and hollering right along with them. Excited teenage tourists were the best. The CTA worker didn't even bat an eye.

Charlie flew down the steps to the Jackson Blue Line before her good luck wore off.

And there she was.

This gorgeous girl was shooting fleeting glances over her shoulders as she casually eyed the contents of each garbage can on the platform. Charlie recognized the routine. She'd eaten out of the trash plenty of times. Tourists were really the best people on the planet. They'd throw out half eaten sandwiches and nearly full sodas just so they wouldn't have to take it with on the train. Good Samaritans, really. The girl kept checking cans, but there seemed to be slim pickings.

Charlie felt the ten dollars in her pocket. She didn't even debate about it. She walked straight up to the girl and asked, "You want to get some lunch?"

The girl's eyes snapped up to Charlie's face, startled. "Oh, no, it's okay," she said.

Charlie grinned and asked, "When's the last time you ate? It's been three days for me, personally."

The girl's eyes wandered up and down Charlie's outfit. "Two days," she said softly.

"Lunch?" Charlie asked again.

The girl nodded reluctantly.

Charlie smiled and said, "Great! I hope you like McDonald's." The girl returned the smile, following Charlie off the platform and back up to the street.

"I'm Charlie, by the way," Charlie said.

"Dorothy," the girl replied.

Charlie noticed Dorothy didn't have a jacket either, so they hurried to McDonald's on the corner. The warmth once inside the door was amazing. Charlie could almost feel her arms again.

"What would you like?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy shrugged and looked at the menu.

"Okay," Charlie said, "If I ordered two singles with cheese, two orders of dollar menu fries, and two cups for water, would you have some?"

Dorothy nodded, smiling at Charlie like she'd done something amusing. Charlie approached the counter, ordered the food, made sure all of it came from the dollar menu, and managed to keep five bucks and some change.

While they waited for their food, Charlie said, "Hey, now I can afford dinner for us, too."

Dorothy shook her head and said, "You don't have to buy food for me."

Charlie sighed. "You're right," she said, "I should save the money for breakfast for us in the morning."

Dorothy looked at her skeptically. "What makes you think I'll be around in the morning?" she asked.

Charlie grabbed their food and sat down with Dorothy at a booth near a hot air vent in the back. "I'm not assuming anything, but you seem nice, and I like making friends. If you have somewhere better to be, then by all means, it was nice to meet you, and maybe we'll see each other around. And if you'd rather search the trash for food tomorrow than hang out with me anymore, I'll try not to be offended," Charlie said, "But you do seem nice, and I do like making friends especially since I don't really have any. There's a shelter up a few blocks from here that I like. If you come with me, we can get breakfast, hang out, and do whatever you want."

Dorothy took a bite of her cheeseburger and regarded Charlie for a moment. "I've never been to a shelter," she said.

"How long you been on your own?" Charlie asked. Dorothy looked at her hands for a minute, and Charlie wondered if she'd gone too far.

Dorothy said, "About a month."

"Jeez, where've you been sleeping if you haven't gone to a shelter?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy shrugged and said, "The CTA, the bus a few times, hid in a library, slept in an alley, just where ever." Desperate times led people to do all sorts of thing, but Dorothy was just lucky she hadn't been attacked. Not that that couldn't happen at a shelter, but being alone was really risky, especially for someone as gorgeous as she was.

"Wanna get your first shelter experience with me?" Charlie asked. She knew if Dorothy left to do her own thing, Charlie would be worried sick.

Luckily, Dorothy nodded and said, "You seem cool, and I'm in need of friends these days. Sure." They finished their food and enjoyed the warmth as long as they could without being hassled by the McDonald's employees. It started getting dark after a couple of hours.

"We should head over to the shelter. Don't want to get screwed out of a cot," Charlie said. Dorothy stood up with her and followed her to the door. It look horribly cold outside.

Charlie shoved her hands in her pants pockets and asked, "Ready?" Dorothy shouldered open the door, and the Chicago winter wind blasted them instantly.

"Shit, it's cool," Dorothy muttered.

Charlie nodded, doing all she could to keep from hugging herself against the cold. Her fingers were more important to keep warm. They started walking towards the shelter, teeth chattering as they went.

"Can I ask you something?" Dorothy asked with shivering breath.

Charlie nodded and said, "Sure. Anything."

Dorothy asked, "How long have you been on the streets?"

"A couple of years," Charlie answered.

Dorothy's eyes widened a little, but she didn't say anything. Charlie didn't mind being on her own. It was better than the foster system. Dorothy's lack of reaction unnerved Charlie, however. Did she think years was too long to be homeless? What was going on in her head?

Charlie's fingers started to feel numb in her pockets. She pulled her hands into her sleeves, which did not help at all. She quickly smacked her hands against her thighs to get the blood flowing again.

Dorothy said, "Here." She took Charlie's hands in hers and breathed warm air on their hands, cupping her hands over Charlie's. God, it was warm. Her hands didn't throb nearly as bad.

"Thanks," Charlie said, trying to remind herself that a beautiful girl holding her hands and smiling at her doesn't mean anything. She refused to let herself look at Dorothy's lips.

"We should-umm-" Charlie tried to say. Dorothy dropped Charlie's hands, leaving them exposed to the freezing cold, and kept walking in the direction Charlie had taken them in. Charlie was not under any circumstances developing a crush on her almost friend. It was just not a thing that was happening.

They got close enough to see the sign before Charlie realized she was a complete ass. "I should've mentioned earlier, this shelter is co-ed. Is that okay?" she asked.

Dorothy said, "Yeah, I'm fine with guys. I don't care."

"Oh, good," Charlie said, "'Cause you never know someone's backstory, and I completely forgot to say anything."

Dorothy smiled at Charlie slight babbling.

When they signed in at the door and went inside, there were still a good number of cots left.

"Where you wanna crash?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy nodded over to a couple of cots against a wall as Jodi, the shelter operator waved Charlie over.

"I'll be right back, Jodi needs me for a bit. Just grab some cots, and I'll meet you back over here," Charlie said to Dorothy.

Dorothy nodded with a small smile, and Charlie didn't doubt for a second that she'd wait for her.

Charlie hurried over to Jodi and said, "Hey, Jodi, what's up?"

"Alex and her friend can't get the DVD player to work. Would you mind taking a look at it?" Jodi asked.

Charlie grinned. She loved being Jodi's go to tech girl. "Sure thing," she said. She headed over to the DVD player. Sure enough, the AV cables were out. She plugged them back in and the TV screen came to life.

"Thanks, Charlie!" Jodi called.

Before Charlie could respond, a guy walked up to her with a cocky grin and an overcompensating leather jacket. "Charlie, huh?" he said, "Isn't that a guy's name?"

Charlie smiled innocently and said, "Well, if you called me Charlotte, I'd have to break your face."

"Well, you're certainly feisty," he said.

"I'm also certain not interested," Charlie said.

The guy feigned a look of offense and said, "But you don't even know me."

"I'm a lesbian, honey. Just quit while you're ahead," Charlie said quickly.

A kid behind Mr. Tries Too Hard burst out laughing.

The guy walked over to the kid and said, "Shut up, Sam." Charlie turned away from them to see Dorothy just a few steps away from her.

"Were you gonna kick his ass or something?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy shrugged and said, "Only if I had to."

Charlie grinned. "Oh, I like you," she said.

The kid, Sam, ran up to them, and Charlie was surprised at how tall he was up close. "Hey, I'm sorry about him. My brother's harmless, I swear. I just-oh God, that was great. The look on his face! Thank you. Thank you for that," he said.

"You're welcome for my being gay, then," Charlie said with a laugh.

Dorothy smiled brightly. And good lord, did Charlie want to know what that meant.

Sam grinned and asked, "Is the shelter operator okay with that?"

Charlie nodded and said, "Oh, yeah, Jodi is cool with it. She's super accepting."

"Oh good. I'm mostly gay, and I'm never sure with the shelters, y'know?" Sam said.

Charlie laughed and said, "Yeah, I've been there."

She looked over at Dorothy and said to Sam, "Wow, I have no manners. I'm Charlie, and this is my friend, Dorothy."

"I'm Sam," he said, giving a small, awkward wave, "And that's my brother, Dean..."

Sam called over at Dean, saying, "Who should really apologize to Charlie for being an jerk!"

Dean called back, "Or I could keep saving the cots and not get up."

"He's a ray of sunshine, isn't he?" Charlie said.

Sam said, "He gets better when you get to know him. Dean is actually a really good guy. He's just...not the best with first impressions."

Charlie wasn't exactly convinced, but it didn't matter. Dean did have a point with holding down cots, though. Charlie looked over to the corner where she and Dorothy were going to hole up, and of course, the cots were taken. Damn it. Dorothy and Sam followed her gaze.

Dorothy said, "Oh, crap. Sorry. I shouldn't have just left-"

"Why don't you guys camp out by us? There's still cots left," Sam offered.

Charlie looked to Dorothy to see what she thought. Dorothy looked back at Charlie and shrugged a little. Good enough.

"Sure, why not," Charlie said. They followed Sam over to where Dean sat with his legs propped up on a second cot.

"They're gonna sleep over here," Sam said, "Be nice."

Dean sighed and moved his feet so Sam could sit on his own cot.

"I'm sorry about...me," Dean said to Charlie, "I didn't know, and you're kinda cute, and I maybe don't think as much as I should. I didn't mean to-"

"Who is your favorite super hero?" Charlie cut him off.

Dean said, "What? Um...Batman. Why?"

Charlie said, "Batman. Respectable. We're cool."

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

"You like Batman, you apologized. I think we're okay," Charlie explained.

Dean asked, "Who's your favorite hero?"

"Catwoman if we're considering her as a heroine instead of the chaotic neutral sexiness that she is. Otherwise, I love the Flash," Charlie said.

"I don't know," Dean said, "Barry's cool and all, but there's only so much you can do with speed."

Dean knew the Flash's name, Sam seemed like a sweetheart, and Dorothy was awesome. These people were pretty cool. Charlie kept talking with Dean about comic books for a while, and had a near heart attack when Dorothy started talking about Dungeons and Dragons. This was what it felt like to have friends. It felt amazing.


	4. Long, Long Way From Home

Castiel sighed in frustration as he stared up at the concrete building. This wasn't the student center either. The school wasn't all that big, the whole campus fit within a few blocks, but he needed lunch and only one building held the food court. Castiel was hopelessly turned around. He started considering just going back to his apartment and scraping together whatever food he had in his mini fridge. Castiel shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and trudged off. If only there was a map of the campus somewhere. And there was. It was in the student center. Which he couldn't find. Because he needed a map. This was ridiculous.

A visitors' tour walked by and Castiel was almost tempted to ask the guide for directions for his own college campus. Almost.

The guide said to his group, "This is the academic advising building. Pretty boring but very important. It's really smart to go in each semester and make sure everything is in order for you to graduate on a schedule that works for you. Over there, though, is also important. That's Taylor street. If you ever need a meal, Taylor has you covered. The whole block is just diners, cafes, shops, and bars. Equally as important as advising if you ask me."

Castiel tried incredibly hard not to bolt for Taylor street the second the tour guide said that. He tried not to look like he was listening in, and he tried so very hard not to jump at the thought of food. It wasn't like he was starving or anything, but he had had breakfast nearly five hours ago. His stomach would probably start digesting itself if he didn't do something.

As the group moved on to other landmarks of the college campus, Castiel walked very quickly towards Taylor. The guide hadn't been lying. Food shops galore overran the street. He walked past a sandwich shop, not at all sure what he wanted for lunch. Finally, he happened upon a bar. It was sort of small, and there seemed to be an apartment above the bar. It looked warm inside, and Castiel could already smell cheese fries. Perfect.

He opened the door of The Roadhouse cautiously and stepped inside. A group of college students surrounded a foosball table, shouting in unison at random intervals. Otherwise, the place was pretty empty.

Castiel walked over to a seat in the front corner away from the foosball enthusiasts. At least it was quieter on that side.

An older woman walked up to him with a smile and asked, "What can I get for you, honey?"

"Some water and an order of cheese fries if it's not too much trouble," Castiel replied.

The woman smiled warmly. "Coming right up," she said. She walked back behind the bar, and Castiel pulled out his notebook. It was only the beginning of the semester, and he was already behind on his notes. Latin was the worst. For a dead language, his professor really seemed to have a handle on correct pronunciation.

Before he could fully immerse himself in the world of unintelligible syllable emphasis, a blonde girl sat down across from him, looking at him curiously. "Hi," she said, "Mind if I join you?"

Castiel shook his head but kept reading his notes. The information had made no sense when he'd written the notes and even less now that he was reading them.

"You go to the college?" the girl asked.

Castiel looked up and nodded.

"Cool, we get a lot of the college students in here," she said, "What class is that for?"

"Latin," he said.

The girl laughed for a moment and then said, "Wait, you're serious? You're taking Latin? Why?"

"Language requirement," Castiel said.

The girl looked at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, and he returned his gaze to his notes in order to avoid her stare.

"You're really quiet," she said.

"Well, I don't know you, so..." Castiel replied.

She sat up straighter and extended her hand across the table formally. "My name's Jo," she said.

Castiel hesitantly shook her hand. "Castiel," he replied.

Jo grinned. She said, "Well, I'll definitely remember that name."

He lowered his eyes back to his notebook. His name was always a source of contention. Jo was certainly not the first to think it was weird, and she certainly wouldn't be the last. Apparently, naming him Castiel had been his mother's idea, but when she died giving birth to him, his father hadn't had the heart to ignore her wishes. Castiel liked his name even if it was a little weird, but it still was a bit embarrassing when others didn't feel the same way.

"It's kinda cool. Castiel. You're like a sci-fi character or something," she said, smiling.

He laughed a little at that.

"So, why are you sitting all on your own in here when you could be playing foosball with everyone else?" Jo asked.

Castiel shrugged. "I've never been in here, I don't really know them, so I figured I'd just sit over here and study," he said.

"Oh, am I interrupting you? I didn't even think, I just kinda sat down, and-"

"No, no it's fine. I'm deplorable with Latin. Your presence isn't going to change that."

"Why are you taking Latin, again? I get the foreign language requirement, but that still seems really off the wall," Jo said.

Castiel sighed and said, "I'm a History major, so it goes into the Classics part of my degree, but I also figured there'd be no oral presentations or anything since it's a dead language."

"There are oral presentations in Latin?" Jo asked.

"No, but my teacher still grades our pronunciation."

"That sucks."

The woman who had taken Castiel's order came over with his cheese fries and water. She shot a look at Jo and said, "Don't you have something else to be doing? Like working? I've got at least two rounds of drinks waiting at the bar."

Jo grinned and hopped up. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Castiel," she said. The other woman walked back to the bar.

Castiel asked Jo, "Wait, you're twenty-one?" She didn't look like she was even in her twenties, but Castiel had always been a bad judge of these things.

Jo said, "To anyone that asks, yes, I'm legal. I'm actually seventeen, but my mom and stepdad own the place, so they let me work anyway. Just, y'know, can't be on the clock if the cops show up."

Castiel nodded and was vaguely concerned that she was working illegally, but Jo didn't seem too bothered by it.

Just as Jo walked away and Castiel turned his attention back to his notes, his phone rang. The universe did not want him to learn Latin apparently. Castiel pulled his phone out of his trench coat. It was his dad.

"Hey, dad," Castiel said, answering the call.

His dad said, "Hey, kiddo, how's school going?"

"Oh, it's going okay. It's only been a couple of weeks, but it's been good."

"How's the apartment treating you? I feel like I haven't asked enough about how you're living. You're still eating and locking your doors and everything, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. And the apartment's fine. It gets a little drafty around the windows, but it's nice having my own place," Castiel said.

His dad chuckled and said, "Enjoying your independence. Nice."

"How's work been going?" Castiel asked.

His dad sighed. "It's been slow. I'm going to have to pack up and head to another town soon," he said.

Castiel's dad was a salesman. He'd sell appliances to companies or door-to-door if things got really tight. He was actually pretty good with words, and he did sell a fair amount of inventory, but it meant that he moved a lot. So much so that Castiel had gone to twelve different high schools.

"Of course, I'll call when I get to the next town," his dad said.

"Oh, yeah," Castiel said, "Of course."

An awkward silence formed on the line. Castiel and his dad had never been particularly close, but his dad was all he really had. At the same time, bonding over the phone was incredibly hard when nobody knew what to say.

"Hey, dad?" Castiel said.

His dad replied, "Yeah?"

"I'm glad you called," Castiel said,"But I've got to go. Studying for classes and stuff."

His dad said, "Yeah, I probably shouldn't distract you. I'll check in later this week. Good luck with your classes."

Castiel hung up his phone and pocketed it, returning to his fries.

After he finished his food, he grabbed his notebook and headed for the door.

"See you around, Castiel," Jo called, giving him a wink.

He'd never been good at making friends. Always on the move with his dad, he never had the need to form any attachments. Now that he was so far from his dad, from the only home he'd ever known, maybe it made sense to make a friend.

Castiel smiled at Jo and walked outside. He might be on his own now, but maybe he wasn't as alone as he felt.


	5. Sugar, We're Going Down

Gabriel dodged his dad's fist as it collided with the wall next to his head. Let's face it. Gabriel had this coming. He'd stayed out a bit too late, and honestly, he knew this was going to happen. Still, the looks of fear on his brothers' faces made Gabriel try to fend the old drunk off.

"Dad, stop!" Gabriel shouted, ducking another blow.

His dad bellowed something incoherent and lunged for his son as Gabriel danced out of reach.

If his brothers weren't watching, Gabriel would've let his dad catch him. His dad's angry fists would just tell Gabriel something that he and everyone else already knew, that he was completely worthless. The fact that his dad was even wasting this kind of energy on the likes of him was almost flattering.

Gabriel narrowly avoided a flat palm slap to the side of his head.

There was a small part of him that still remembered his dad's smile. He hadn't seen it in years, but he could still see it if he tried hard enough. There had been a time that his dad loved him. Then, his mom left, his dad started drinking like a damn sailor, and Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel had learned right quick to keep out of his dad's way and avoid punches when necessary. No point in dwelling on the past. That loving father of his was long gone.

Gabriel's dad grabbed his shirt in a sweaty fistful and slammed him up against the wall, knocking a picture frame askew.

"You ungrateful, stupid, spoiled son of a bitch," his dad snapped. Gabriel looked to where his brothers had been. They had gone to hide somewhere. Good. He didn't need an audience.

"You really gonna talk about Mom like that?" Gabriel teased. He knew what was coming. It didn't matter, he needed this. His dad punched him hard in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from Gabriel's lungs. He slumped to the floor, blinking back the fuzzy edges of his vision. The pain helped clear his head a bit.

"You should've died in the womb," his father spat.

Sometimes, Gabriel wished he could've granted his dad that. He couldn't even argue with his dad. It was true, Gabriel should be dead. He was a waste of life, and anyone who felt differently clearly didn't know him that well. But he needed to keep this going.

Gabriel took a breath and got back on his feet. "But what would you do without your favorite punching bag? Being a decent human being seems a bit beyond you," he replied.

His dad lunged at him again, but Gabriel caught his shoulders and shoved him back. He needed to wear the guy out a bit, so he wouldn't go after his brothers when Gabriel wasn't looking. As much as his brothers aggravated him, he needed to at least try to protect them. Michael wouldn't stand up to their dad, even if he was the oldest, and Raphael more often than not would hide in his room and delude himself into thinking his family loved him and functioned like anyone else's. They were no help and were often open targets for their dad's drunken rages.

But this was Gabriel's job, right? Look out for his pain in the ass brothers? Gabriel was the only one who'd fight their dad, he was the only one who wouldn't cry or scream, and he was the only one that deserved every punch his dad dealt.

Before Gabriel knew what was happening, his dad swept his legs out from under him, Gabriel's back crashing painfully against the hard wood floor. He groaned loudly in pain. Fuck. That was going to bruise badly. Gabriel blinked rapidly, trying to clear his dazed vision. He needed to see where his dad was.

His father's hands wrapped around his throat, closing his windpipe. Gabriel tried to cough, gasping for breath and swatting at his father's arms. It was useless and pointless. Why should he even try to save himself? He was better off dead anyway.

Waking up took effort, dying would be a relief.

There was nothing left to look forward to except the passage of time so he could maybe one day have the ability to look in the mirror and feel something other than regret. Maybe if he was dead, he'd finally be able to feel again, to care about something again.

He tried for another gasp of air to no avail. He wouldn't have to watch everyone be happy while he did the best he could to play along, pretend it wasn't all just some sick facade.

Another gasp. His father's hands tightened, his vision swam. Maybe this was it.

But this had happened before, and it was never the end. It never ended. Gabriel just kept on living and fighting and feeling nothing, and this would be no different. He had to protect his brothers, he had to keep his father alive. Dying would be quitting, and he didn't have that fucking luxury.

Gabriel balled a fist and swung it at his dad's head as hard as he could. Given his oxygen deprivation, it wasn't enough strength to do much damage, but his father jumped away, holding his head in pain.

Gabriel coughed and breathed in as much oxygen as he could. He rolled onto his hands and knees. His chest protested his breathing painfully. Fuck.

Gabriel's dad shouted, "You can go to fucking hell."

He braced himself for another blow or more strangling, but it didn't come. Instead, the front door slammed as his father stormed out.

Normally, Gabriel would go after him, pull him into an alley, let him go a few more rounds, and carry him home. It was better than letting him get into a bar fight. But Gabriel could barely stand, let alone keep fighting. He got up, leaning heavily on the wall, trying to get his breathing under control. He should've gone after his father. Who knew what mess his dad would get into out there in his state?

And it would be Gabriel's fault.

He should've kept him reined in. He should've locked the door, so he couldn't get out and hurt someone else. Really, what else was new? It was always Gabriel's fault. He'd caused this. He'd provoked him. If he'd cared more about himself, he would've come home on time. He knew his dad didn't like them staying out late. He knew it reminded his dad of his mom walking out. He knew what was going to happen. If he was a better person, he would've come home on time. He would've given a shit about his brothers for once, and been there when he needed to fucking be there.

Fuck everything.

Gabriel trudged over to Michael's room where he and Raphael always took refuge at times like this. He knocked on the door twice and tapped once. It was their signal that it wasn't their dad trying to get in.

Michael opened the door and let Gabriel in.

"Are you guys okay?" Gabriel asked.

Michael nodded slowly, refusing to meet Gabriel's eyes. Raphael nodded as well, silently staring at Gabriel's neck. There were probably finger marks. Great.

"He left," Gabriel said, "I'm glad he didn't get you guys too bad." Michael opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. For a second, Gabriel thought his brother might actually say something to show he cared. That'd be the joke of the fucking century. If Michael did care, he didn't show it. And if he ever did show it, Gabriel would never believe him. He wasn't worth the effort anyway. Why would anyone care about Gabriel when he didn't even care about himself?

Gabriel retreated to his room where a stack of homework waited for him. His hands were still shaking from the fight, his knuckles still sore from throwing punches.

He'd stop shaking in a few minutes. He'd finish his homework, he'd stay awake until he heard his dad come home, then he'd go to school the next day with some story about getting mugged in order to explain the bruises. Everyone would pretend to be concerned, and he'd pretend to laugh it off. Then, they'd play some foosball, and he'd go home, get thrown around a bit by his dad, check on his brothers, do some homework, and do it all over again.

Gabriel put his head in his shaking hands as he sat on the edge of his bed. He just wanted it to be over.


	6. Workin' Man

Dean walked down the street with his hands in his pockets. He had no idea what he was doing. Apartment hunting didn't seem like it was that complicated, but he didn't even know where to start. The signs that read "Apartments for Rent" that he passed all the time actually stuck out to him. It was really kind of weird.

But where should he even look into living? Did it matter? He supposed it should be closer to Sam's school, but even if it wasn't, they were pretty used to walking everywhere anyway. What the hell even were amenities? Did it matter if they had one or two bedrooms? Wasn't space just space? What was cheaper, gas or electric?

So, Dean decided to just walk around the city and see what apartment building stuck out to him. He had no clue what he was doing. It didn't matter to him if the place had windows. A roof was good enough. Maybe he should've waited for Sam before going on this quest. What if Sam wanted his own room? Dean sort of wanted his own room, but he had no idea how much that would cost. A studio would be fine if that's what they could afford. He should've asked that banker more questions. Finding an apartment shouldn't be so complicated.

Dean kept walking, glancing at the giant steel and glass buildings that loomed above him. Every building he passed was nicer than anything he and Sam had ever had. Did it matter? A gentle breeze blew his coat open a little, but Dean didn't mind. For January, it was a surprisingly warm day. The temperature had stayed just a few degrees below freezing, and the sun shining steadily made it feel almost balmy. Anyone from Florida would be shivering their asses off, but Dean almost felt like taking off his coat and enjoying the nice weather. Almost. At least the wind chill hadn't made the temperature negative yet.

On days like this, Dean didn't mind not having anywhere to stay. Ellen and Bobby were always good to them, and if the sun was shining, Dean could occasionally trick himself into thinking everything would be okay. He took a deep breath of the cold city air, and he knew he and Sam had made the right choice deciding to settle in Chicago.

Getting to the city hadn't been easy. They'd had to hitch hike from South Dakota when their dad had died. They'd spent plenty of nights just walking by the roadside. It had sucked, and Sam hated talking about it, but it had been kind of nice spending so much time with his brother. They'd just started being brothers again when John had died, so being together on the road, hopping from town to town with whoever would take them had been more brotherly bonding than they'd had in a long time. Once they got to Chicago, both of them were tired of running. It had just been a good fit. And now, here Dean was, walking along the city streets, actually looking for an apartment.

It still felt incredibly surreal. They'd have their own place for the first time ever. Assuming, of course, that Dean could actually find a place for them.

Eventually, Dean found himself walking along Lake Shore Drive. The luxury apartments stood tall along the lake, and Dean chuckled to himself. There was no chance in hell that he could afford one of those, with or without a trust fund. Where was he even going? Why had he wandered out to the most expensive part of the city? He'd have to keep apartment hunting with Sam later.

The wind off of the beach felt nice. It was fucking cold, sure, but the air was gentle, not being amplified and funneled through the Chicago skyscrapers. After a few minutes, he decided to head back towards the Roadhouse and Sam's high school. It wasn't like he had the money for public transportation, so he needed to give himself plenty of time, or he'd be late for meeting up with Sam after school got out.

The return walk was just as nice as the walk he'd started out on. Nice breeze, sun streaming steadily, everything felt it was going to be okay. It was a pretty great feeling. He just needed to figure out how to do the whole apartment thing, but Sam could help, he was the smart one anyway. They'd figure it out.

As Dean walked up towards Jackson, he saw her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. All black and sharp features, she was gorgeous. She wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but she just needed some serious TLC. Dean would've given an arm and a leg to be the one to help heal that gorgeous goddess of a car.

"You know, kid, a picture'd last longer," a guy said, approaching him.

Dean swallowed and said, "Sorry, it's just a really nice car."

The guy laughed. "Maybe it used to be. That car is nothing but scrap, dude," he said.

"Says who?" Dean countered.

The guy extended his hand and said, "The name's Rufus. I run this place, and I own that car. Trust me, it's junk."

Dean shook his hand. "Well, Rufus, I have to disagree. That, right there, is perfection on wheels. She just needs some work and love, but she can purr, I can tell," he said, "I'm Dean, by the way."

Rufus smirked. "You think you could fix up that beater? That's cute, kid," he said.

Dean replied quickly, "Oh, I know I can." Okay, so maybe he was bluffing, but he did know his way around a car, and that car...it wasn't just scrap. There was so much potential sitting in that metal. He could see it, and it was almost irritating that Rufus didn't.

"You know what?" Rufus said, "I could use someone like you around here. Not many people have the guts to bullshit to my face. Need a job, kid?"

Dean stared at Rufus, stunned. "What?" he asked. None of what Rufus said made any sense.

Rufus grinned and said, "I like you. You clearly care about that car even though you haven't seen how bad it is. I have a vacancy, I need some part time help, and I'll let you work on that hunk of junk all you want as long as you're off the clock. If you've got experience working on cars, you're hired."

"I worked on my Dad's 1986 GMC Sierra Grande all the time as a kid," Dean said, trying desperately not to think about that car or his dad. He remembered the slashed tires, he remembered his dad sitting in the driver's seat loading that damn gun.

Dean shook himself from his thoughts and said, "I'm good with cars."

"When's the last time you worked on a car?" Rufus asked.

Dean looked over at the gorgeous husk of an Impala and admitted slowly, "It's...it's been a while."

Rufus smiled and said, "Why don't you come on inside and meet Benny? The job's yours if you want it, and if you can't keep up on account of being rusty, Benny'll help you out."

"I'd love to work for you. Thank you, sir," Dean said.

Rufus caught Dean with a hard glare and said, "Boy, if you call me 'sir' one more time, you'll be fired before you get through that door. C'mon. Calling me 'sir.' How old do you think I am, man?"

Dean kept his comments to himself and followed Rufus inside.

"Benny!" Rufus called.

A guy about Dean's age popped his head in through a door that presumably connected to the garage.

"Come here for a second, need you to meet somebody," Rufus said.

Benny walked over wearing a tough canvas jacket and an old newsboy hat. "Fresh meat?" he asked with a low southern drawl.

Rufus nodded.

"Name's Dean," Dean said, extending a hand to Benny.

Benny gave Dean a once over, grinned, and gripped Dean by the forearm. "You'll do alright," he said.

Rufus said with a laugh, "Dean here has grand delusions for that piece of crap out back."

Benny gave Rufus a confused look. "The Impala?" he asked.

Rufus nodded.

Benny laughed heartily before saying, "Boy, you've got your work cut out for you."

Dean decided not to comment. He knew the car had some serious potential, but he hadn't looked under the hood yet. He may have bit off more than he could chew.

"Why don't you introduce him?" Rufus suggested.

Benny motioned for Dean to follow him into the garage. Through the garage and in the back lot sat the broken down Impala.

"Go ahead, get a good look," Benny said.

Dean walked up to the car. The paint was chipped, several parts of the car were rusting badly, but that was just surface stuff. Dean popped the hood, and his jaw nearly dropped. Several parts were gone, others were rusted beyond recognition. Cobwebs covered the engine block, and if a moth or two flew out, Dean wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest.

He dropped to his knees and crawled under the car. The bottom of the car was not much better. The brake lines were severed, other parts looked like maybe the car had been set on fire at some point. Everything was covered in rust. Shit. Several parts would need to be replaced. Everything else needed to be buffed, polished, flushed, tuned. It was too late for Dean, though. He'd already given his heart to this beautiful girl.

Dean scooted out from under the Impala and smiled at Benny. "You think Rufus'll give me a discount on parts?" he asked, grinning.

Benny shook his head in disbelief, and Dean heard Rufus laughing inside. It didn't matter. Dean would save this car. It may take a while, but he'd get her back to her old self.

Benny said, "C'mon. Let me show you the rest of the place."

Dean followed, letting Benny show him the ropes, but he'd be lying if his mind wasn't completely stuck on the gorgeous lady he'd be spending so much of his time with.


	7. Can't Fight This Feeling

Sam stood outside his school, waiting for Dean. Where was he? Luci had stayed behind to keep him company and entertain him, but he had to get home sometime.

Nearly forty minutes after class got out, Dean jogged up to the school. "Sorry I'm late," he said between heaving breaths. It was clear he'd been running.

"Does this mean you found an apartment?" Sam asked. Dean scratched the back of his head in a gesture that gave Sam all the answer he needed.

"Walk and talk, huh?" Dean said, heading towards the Roadhouse.

Sam followed along and asked, "So, what happened?"

Dean said, "Good news and bad news. Bad news is I didn't find an apartment, so we'll need to go look together tomorrow and Sunday. Good news, though. I got a job."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. He knew Dean had been looking for a job for some time, but he'd had no luck for years. Mostly, they got money by hustling pool. Dean had pretty much given up job searching and had resorted to more survivalist priorities. Sam was beyond surprised by the news.

"Really? Where?" Sam asked.

"Rufus' garage," Dean said, "It's a small car place off the Jackson stop. It's pretty cool, and there's this car...it's a bit of a mess, but I'm gonna fix her up."

Sam smiled. The way Dean's eyes lit up made Sam happy for his brother. It wasn't often Dean let himself enjoy something, and it seemed like he was really excited about this job.

"That's great, Dean. I'm proud of you," Sam said.

Dean looked at Sam, clearly uncomfortable with the sentiment. He glanced away as if looking for a distraction and seemed to find one.

"Hey, aren't those the girls from the shelter the other night?" Dean asked, nodding towards the alley they were passing. Sam looked down the alley and saw Charlie and Dorothy slowly poking through the garbage cans.

"Hey, Charlie, Dorothy," Sam called.

The girls looked up, slightly startled.

"You hungry?" Dean asked.

Charlie and Dorothy walked over. It was crazy cold out, and neither of them had coats. Sam shrugged off his jacket to offer it to them, but Charlie waved him off.

"Hey, guys," Dorothy said.

Charlie said, "Hungry, yes. Curious about what you know and I don't, definitely."

Dean said, "We have some people you should meet. They feed us all the time."

"Four mouths aren't the same as two, Dean," Dorothy pointed out.

Sam motioned for them to follow and said, "Bobby and Ellen will be cool with it, promise."

In no time, the four of them stood behind the Roadhouse. Sam knocked on the door. He wondered what Ellen and Bobby would think about Luci if he ever brought him by.

Ellen opened the back door and smiled at Sam. Her eyes snapped up to Charlie and Dorothy. "Oh my God, come in. It's freezing," she said.

Once everyone was inside, Ellen asked, "So, are you guys...together?" gesturing between Dean, Sam, and the girls.

Dean said, "Ha, no," as Dorothy shook her head, and Charlie and Sam said, "Uh, no, we're not...we don't..." in near unison.

"Okay, okay, nobody pull a muscle. I was just wondering. So, how do you all know each other?" Ellen asked.

Sam said, "We met them at a shelter. They're pretty cool for street kids."

"You're not so bad yourselves," Charlie said, nudging Sam in the shoulder.

Ellen said quickly, "Would you excuse us for a minute." She pulled Dean and Sam by the arms into the kitchen. "What's wrong with you boys? They're homeless, too? Letting those girls be out there with you two without jackets. Why didn't you tell us about them sooner?" she snapped.

Dean held up his hands in defense and said, "We just met them the other day. We didn't know-"

Charlie walked into the kitchen with Dorothy.

"If we're in the way, we can go. It's not a-" Charlie said.

Ellen shook her head and rushed over to the girls. "No, no, no. That's not what I was-"

Bobby walked around the corner with four bowls of leftover stew on a tray. He handed the tray to Sam and said, "She was yelling at these idjits for not introducing you sooner. Now, take this to a table and eat."

Charlie smiled gratefully.

Sam opened the door with his back and led them out to a booth. "See, I told you they'd be fine," he said.

Charlie and Dorothy beamed at him, both taking bowls of stew. It felt good to help them, and they were also pretty cool. If Sam and Dean didn't have such a lack of organization in their lives, Sam would have no problem asking the girls to stick with them.

After they ate, Charlie looked over at the foosball table and asked, "Anyone up for a game?"

Dean hopped up and said, "You're on, Charles."

Dorothy and Sam stayed at the table, relaxing.

"So, are you two...?" Sam asked.

Dorothy shook her head and looked over at Charlie. "No, we're not dating or anything," she said, "But she is pretty cool, isn't she?"

Sam smiled. They would be pretty cute together.

"Yeah, you're both pretty great," Sam said, "If you guys ever need anything, Dean and I tend to hang out here a lot, and Ellen and Bobby give their leftovers to whoever needs them, so they'll keep you fed."

"Thanks, Sam," Dorothy said, smiling, "It was really kind of you guys to invite us here. Thank you."

"Well, what are friends for?" Sam said.

Dorothy gave Sam a warm look and slowly stood up. "I'm going to watch them play. Want to come?" she asked.

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm fine," he said. If he went over to the foosball table while Dean was playing, he'd get roped in and wind up owing his brother money or favors or both. No need for that.

Jo wandered over to the table as Dorothy left.

"So, who are the newbies?" Jo asked.

Sam said, "Some new friends. You'd like them."

"Oh!" Jo said, excited, "I almost forgot. I made a new friend! I wanted to tell you. He's pretty awesome, and I'm like 75% sure he's gay."

"Jo..." Sam said.

"Well, you said you were gay, and this guy's really nice, I swear. He's a sweetheart, but he's really shy," Jo said.

Sam sighed and said, "Jo. I may be mostly gay, but you really don't need to hook me up with anyone."

"What do you mean 'mostly gay'?" Jo asked, "I'm honestly curious, because I really don't want to be offensive or anything."

Sam took a deep breath. It was a long story. He tried to keep it as short as he could when he said, "I used to be interested in girls. I had two girlfriends in elementary school, actually. I considered myself bisexual for a while, but I'm not really attracted to girls anymore, so that would make me gay, but I'm not ruling out the possibility of being interested in girls later, so I identify as mostly gay. It's complicated."

Jo nodded, seeming to understand. "Are you sure you don't even want to know the guy's name?" she asked.

Sam shook his head and said, "No, I actually have a boyfriend."

"What?!" Jo said excitedly, "Who!?"

"You don't know him," Sam said, "But he goes to school with me, and he's amazing."

"What's his name?" Jo asked.

"Luci," Sam said.

Jo gave Sam a confused look.

"He's trans," Sam said, "It's complicated."

Jo grinned and said, "Well, at least you can be complicated together. I'm happy for you."

Sam could feel the blush creeping up his face.

"You want to do some karaoke?" Jo asked before Sam's silence got awkward.

"I'll watch you do it if you want," Sam offered.

Jo grinned impishly and said, "Oh, you'll sing, too. C'mon."

Sam got up slowly and followed Jo to the karaoke machine hooked up to the tv in the corner. He'd honestly never seen anyone but incredibly drunk customers use it, and even then, those times were few and far between.

Jo's enthusiasm was pretty infectious, though. Soon, Charlie and Dorothy were clapping along as Dean and Jo sang some REO Speedwagon tunes. Sam rocked the microphone a couple of times, even being joined by Dean once to perform an incredibly off key duet for "Wanted Dead or Alive." Charlie sang a few songs, and the look she gave to Dorothy made any doubt that they were perfect for each other disappear from Sam's mind. It was an amazing time.

Eventually, Jo looked at the clock behind the bar and asked, "Hey, umm, I love you guys, but don't the shelters close soon?"

Sam looked at the time and swore under his breath. The shelters closed about an hour ago. They'd probably have to huddle up in an alley again. Fuck.

Dean shot an apologetic glance at Sam. It wasn't his fault they didn't have a place. Even if he'd found them an apartment, no one got to move in that day. There was usually a waiting period, or at least, that's what he'd read.

Bobby locked the front door, and for the first time, Sam realized the customers had all dwindled out.

Bobby said, "You all can stay here for the night. Just don't tell anybody. It's ten kinds of illegal to let y'all stay in here."

Dean said, "Thanks, Bobby."

"It's no trouble, just get on that apartment hunting, boy. Don't want you kids on the street forever," Bobby said.

Dean nodded.

Sam gave Dean a reassuring gaze. He knew that Dean felt a lot of pressure to find the place, and he knew he was making it all his responsibility, but he just didn't know what he could say to make Dean understand that this wasn't all on him.

Jo said, "One more song, and I'm off to bed."

Charlie ran up to the microphone. "I demand we all sing Kansas!" she said.

"Kansas?" Sam asked, "Really?"

Dean and Dorothy said in unison, "It's a classic." They smiled at each other, and Sam rolled his eyes. He had nothing against Kansas, but for a last song? Really? They queued up "Carry On My Wayward Son." Charlie and Jo shared the mic as the rest of them belted it out without needing screens. It was more fun than Sam had had in a long while.

"Another one?" Dean asked after they were all grinning and breathless from screaming the lyrics. Everyone agreed including Jo.

In the morning, Sam awoke on the ground next to the foosball table. He rolled over and saw Charlie and Dorothy curled up, sleeping soundly underneath the foosball table. Sam sat up quietly, trying not to disturb the girls. He found Dean sprawled out at their booth and drooling slightly. What a little angel.

Sam kicked Dean's boot, startling his brother awake. The look on his face was worth whatever retaliation was waiting for him later. Apparently, Jo had fallen asleep behind the bar, which was a little hilarious since she had a bed just upstairs.

Before Dean and Sam could consider leaving, however, Ellen came out of the kitchen with freshly made french toast. "Eat quick," she said, putting the platter down on the bar, "I do have to open this place sometime."

Charlie and Dorothy came over, awoken by the smell of breakfast.

"These people are the best," Charlie said, grabbing a slice.

Sam nodded.

After they ate, Bobby opened the front doors, and Charlie tapped Sam on the shoulder. "Do you guys want help finding an apartment?" she asked, "I kinda know my way around apartment ads if you need some help."

Sam looked at Dean for his opinion and saw his expression mirrored in Dean's. Sam shrugged.

"Sure, Charlie," Dean said, "Thanks."

Sam asked, "Dorothy, you wanna come, too? I'm sure it'll be easier with all hands on deck."

Dorothy nodded as Dean said, "Yeah, the more the merrier."

As they headed towards the door, Ellen hurried over to them. "Hold it. Stop right there," she said, "You can't leave yet."

The four of them looked at each other, confused.

"Alright," Bobby said, coming downstairs, "Here you go. Good luck, guys." He handed each of them a pair of gloves and gave Charlie and Dorothy what Sam recognized as two of Jo's old coats.

Charlie slipped the jacket on and hugged Bobby tightly.

"Thank you," Dorothy said, zipping her new coat up.

A few customers started trickling in as Dean pulled his gloves on. "Bobby, Ellen, you're the best," he said.

They gave him smiles, and Ellen said, "Now, get out there and put a roof over your damn heads."

Dean nodded and walked outside.

Sam held the door for Charlie and Dorothy. He almost slipped through the door himself, but a guy in a long trench coat walked in first, saying a small "thank you" for Sam holding the door.

Sam nodded, not bothering to verbally respond. He hurried out after his brother, enjoying the feeling of his new gloves on his hands.

Before they'd even gone a block, Dean started humming "Can't Fight This Feeling" under his breath.

"Really, Dean?" Sam laughed.

Dean rolled his eyes and said, "It's stuck in my head. Shut up."


	8. Two Days in February

Charlie rolled her eyes at Dean as she held open the door to Union Station. "If you want to go apartment hunting, you need an apartment guide. Where do they keep those? Near the tourists. Now, get inside," she said.

Dorothy chuckled and said, "I see an apartment guide stand from here."

Charlie said to Dean, "See? It's right there. Let's go."

Dean sighed and walked inside. "I just don't see why we can't just go to a building that has a 'for lease' sign on it," he said.

Charlie walked in after Sam and flipped open one of the apartment guides.

"Then, how're you going to know how much rent is?" Charlie asked, "How're you going to know how big the apartments are? If your plan is to forego a real estate agent and just talk to landlords and sign papers, you need to do your own legwork."

Dean sat down on a bench grumpily and said, "I don't even know what I'm looking for. I don't know what to look for in an apartment."

Sam and Charlie exchanged a glance, and Charlie sat next to Dean. "That would be why I'm helping you, Dean. Do you know what part of the city you want to live in?" she asked.

Dean shook his head, putting his head in his hands.

Charlie nudged him to snap him out of it. This would all go a lot smoother if Dean had at least a little enthusiasm.

"Are you going to school?" Charlie asked.

Dean shook his head.

Sam said quickly, "Yes, you are. You're just not enrolled yet."

Dean sighed and said, "Oh, right. Well, I don't know which school I'm going to go to yet, so it's still a moot point."

"Okay," Charlie said, "Let's figure that out first. What are the closest colleges to Sam's school?"

Dean said, "UIC is the closest, but I don't mind walking places."

"You will when it's cold, and you don't want to get to class anyway," Charlie said, "Do you want to go to UIC?"

Dean shrugged and said, "It's a school, right?"

"This is a big decision, Dean," Charlie said, "If you don't like the school, you won't do well, because you'll ditch all the time."

"UIC is close to the Roadhouse. It's just down the street. And it doesn't have that weird college campus feel, it's feels more like it's part of the city. So, it'll be a good fit. I just don't know if I'll get in," Dean said.

Sam smiled encouragingly and said, "You'll get in. You're smart, Dean. You've definitely got the test scores to get in. It'll be fine."

Dean looked at Sam for a moment, and Charlie was half worried that he'd start arguing with him.

Instead, Dean said, "Alright, UIC it is, so apartments around there, I guess."

Charlie quickly flipped through the apartment guide, finding the right area to search through. "What's your budget?" she asked.

Dean said slowly, "A thousand a month."

Charlie looked at him. How the hell were they still on the street with that kind of money?

Sam seemed to read the question on Charlie's face. He said, "It's a recent development."

"Well, that definitely expands your options," Charlie said, scanning several pages for anything promising.

"There are a few places on Taylor, a few on Harrison, there's a place on Damen, and a couple on Racine," she said after a moment, "How many bedrooms to you guys want?"

Sam shrugged and looked at Dean.

Dean shook his head and said, "I don't know. I just want a roof. Bedrooms don't really matter."

"Okay," Charlie said slowly, "How about energy, then? Electric, gas? Preference?"

"Electric," Sam said quickly.

Dean looked at Sam for a moment and asked, "Do you know how expensive that would be in the winter with electric heating?"

Sam sighed and said, "I think the environment is a little more important than money, Dean."

"Agreed," Dean said, "But we have limited income. If it gets too expensive, we could wind up right back where we are now."

Dorothy spoke up, and Charlie almost jumped at her voice finally adding to the conversation. "If I could interrupt," Dorothy said, "If the place's rent covers amenities, you could just get the trust fund money to cover it. Just saying."

"That's a good idea," Dean said, "Let's do that."

Charlie nodded and said, "Well, now it's down to two places on Taylor, one on Harrison, and one on Damen."

"Dean, could I talk to you for a second?" Sam said, pulling his brother up before an answer was given. They walked over to one of the larger staircases in Union Station and started having a rather animated conversation that Charlie couldn't make out.

"It's really nice that you're helping them out like this," Dorothy said to Charlie.

Charlie smiled at her and said, "My mom used to work in real estate. It'd be a shame if I never got to show off my skills of reading a simple apartment guide."

"What does your mom do now?" Dorothy asked.

Charlie hesitated. Sure, she and Dorothy had decided to be friends and stick together for safety if nothing else, but they hadn't crossed into painful back story territory yet. As much as Charlie wanted to know everything about Dorothy, she didn't want to pry, and she certainly didn't want to make Dorothy uncomfortable. Still, if they were ever going to really get to know each other, someone had to break first, right?

Charlie said, "My mom doesn't do anything. She's dead."

"Oh," Dorothy said, breaking eye contact, "I'm sorry, I didn't even think-"

"It's fine," Charlie said, "It's been a long time. If I didn't want you to know, I wouldn't have told you."

Dorothy looked back up at Charlie. "Is that why you're-" she started.

Charlie nodded and said, "Homeless? Yeah. My parents, they're both...y'know."

Dorothy covered Charlie's hand in her own and said, "I'm so sorry." The girl's blue eyes searched Charlie's. Charlie leaned forward a little, further closing what little distance was between them.

Charlie said, "Dorothy, I-"

"Okay, we reached an agreement," Sam said, he and Dean rejoining them.

Dorothy quickly backed up from Charlie, and it took every inch of Charlie's self control not to glare at Sam for his bad timing. They'd been getting somewhere, damn it.

"Agreement on what?" Charlie asked, purposely keeping her tone light as she tried to calm herself down. What had even just happened? Were they about to kiss? Because it kind of felt like they'd been about to kiss. Charlie wasn't even sure what she'd been about to say. She wanted to tell Dorothy how she felt about her, how amazing she was for showing her sympathy for old deaths that still stung.

"We definitely want to find a place with at least two bedrooms," Sam said, "We need our own space, y'know?"

Charlie nodded and reopened the apartment guide to where her finger had saved the page of area listings. "Well, that certainly narrows it down. The others were studios. Looks like we should check out the place on Damen," she said.

"Great, let's go," Dean said.

Damen was a bit of a hike from Union Station, but they kept it lively. Charlie talked to the boys about movie villains and how they should just let Mark Hamill play the Joker already, because c'mon, how many voice overs does a guy have to do to get screen time? Sam asked Dorothy about her favorite foods, her favorite places in the city.

Charlie found it incredibly hard to concentrate as Dorothy talked. She wanted to know everything about her, and it didn't matter if Dean was in the middle of a debate with her about Deadpool's moral compass, her attention was locked into Dorothy's words. She liked pizza the best, and she loved Oak Street Beach. They were minor details to be sure, barely scratching the surface of that girl, but they were important to Dorothy, so Charlie committed her words to memory. Just in case.

By the time they got to the place on Damen, Dean was giving Charlie a look. "What?" she asked, his amused stare unnerving her.

"I knew there was something between the two of you," Dean said quietly so Dorothy wouldn't hear.

Charlie shook her head. "Nothing going on there, sorry to disappoint," she said.

Dean chuckled and said softly, "We were in the middle of a conversation, you were quite literally in the middle of a sentence, and you just stopped dead listening to Dorothy. Yeah, there's nothing going on. Right."

Charlie tried her best not to blush as she held the door for Dorothy, Sam, and Dean. Dorothy said a quick thank you, and both Sam and Dean smiled at Charlie's grin.

"Shut up," Charlie said. But she couldn't stop smiling. She just hoped Dorothy didn't think she was so obvious. No need to scare the girl off.

Sam knocked on the landlord's office door, and surprisingly, he got an answer. The door opened and a very tall, skinny man with slicked back black hair greeted them with a smile. "Hello," he said.

Sam and Dean seemed to be incapable of speech as they stood there and stared at the surprisingly intimidating landlord.

Charlie said quickly, "They are interested in renting the apartment on the second floor. We found the listing in an apartment guide and figured we'd stop by."

The landlord smiled and said, "Good, good. The apartment has been vacant for some time. Would you like to take a look at it?"

Sam nodded, and the landlord grabbed a key off of his wall.

"Follow me, please," the man said. He led them up a small flight of stairs to the second floor. Down the hall a ways, he stopped, unlocked the apartment door, and said, "Here we are."

They walked inside.

It was a pretty nice place. It was sort of small, but there was a decently sized kitchen, enough space to put a small table for meals, and a hallway that led to what seemed to be bedrooms.

Charlie wandered down the hall as the boys checked out the rest of the apartment. There were three bedrooms down the hallway. She pushed open a door at the end, looking around inside. It was a pretty nice room. It even had a window.

"Could we have a minute?" Dean asked the landlord.

The tall man nodded and said, "If you're still interested, I'll have the paperwork downstairs for you."

Dean thanked him, and Charlie could tell Dean's footsteps were headed in her direction.

"What do you think?" Dean asked.

Charlie looked around. Honestly, it was a nice place. She was happy that they were able to make a home for themselves. A small part of Charlie was incredibly jealous.

"It's nice," she said. Maybe they'd let her and Dorothy pop by every once and a while.

"Yeah, it is nice, and it's not too expensive," Dean said, "It's a little big, though. Sam and I don't really have anything, so there's gonna be a lot of empty space in here."

"But you'll get things. Furniture, hopefully. It won't be that empty once you've lived here enough," Charlie said.

Dean said, "Thank you for helping us. It really means a lot. Sam and I aren't totally useless, but...still, thanks."

"Don't mention it," Charlie said, staring out the window. She could see where they could put a bed, a desk, posters, bookshelves. The spare bedroom could be an office or a hang out space. Maybe they'd let her help pick out some of the furnishings, too.

"You've been a really great friend, Charlie," Dean said.

Or Dean could be saying goodbye. Forget maybe helping with the apartment, Charlie now wondered if this was the last time she'd be seeing these guys. At least she had Dorothy.

Charlie said, "It's been a pleasure, Dean." She wasn't going to cry over losing friends. She just wasn't.

Just then, Sam and Dorothy walked into the bedroom.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy said, "Sam says they need to talk to us together. Won't say about what, though."

"I'd ask you guys to sit down, but well, empty apartment and all," Dean said, smiling, "Sam and I discussed it, and we'd like you both to move in here with us...if you want."

Charlie paused. She knew Dean had said words, words had definitely come out of Dean's mouth. He had said things, and those things had meaning, and the meaning was just so elusive. It hit Charlie like a freight train.

"Move in here?" Charlie asked, unsure if she could've misheard.

"Yeah," Sam said, "Dean and I don't need one bedroom let alone three. There's plenty of space here for the four of us."

Dorothy said, "You guys barely know us. Why would you-"

"You're good friends," Dean said, "And we can get to know each other. If you don't want to move in with two guys you barely know, we get it. But the way I see it, we're friends, we're going to get to know each other, and if we can do all that with a roof over our heads, so much the better."

Charlie looked at Dorothy. Living with Dean and Sam was one thing. Living with Dorothy, well, they'd both have to be comfortable with it.

Dorothy met Charlie's gaze and smiled. "Sure," she said, "Let's do it."

"Thank you," Charlie said, "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough."

Sam laughed and said, "You'll be having us for roommates. Trust me, you shouldn't thank us just yet. Wait until you've heard Dean snoring and then tell me how much you like it here."

Charlie laughed and Dean shoved Sam in the arm.

The four of them excitedly went downstairs to fill out paperwork. It would take a week to process, and it might take longer because of the rent money being directly withdrawn from trust fund money, but they had a home.

Just like that Charlie Bradbury, who'd spent years being homeless, had a place to live with people that were quickly becoming family. She didn't know how she got so lucky.


	9. I Got More Bills Than I Got Pay

Castiel leaned against the kitchen counter in his apartment as he ate a muffin and idly flipped through the mail he'd brought upstairs the day before. Most of it was junk. Credit card applications, college event notices, and several other envelopes that he had no care for. One of the envelopes stuck out. It read "late payment notice" on the front.

That didn't seem right. Reading through the letter, Castiel discovered that his apartment complex hadn't received money for his rent in two months. That didn't seem right either.

He pulled out his phone to call his dad. When they'd discussed Castiel's college career, his dad had been adamant that Castiel focus his energy on school, and his dad would send money and cover all expenses. Castiel did not mind not having to pay bills, so the arrangement worked out quite nicely.

After four rings, his dad's phone was sent to voicemail. "Hi, you've reached Chuck Novak. Please, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

At the tone, Castiel said, "Hey, Dad. It's me. So, I got a notice saying my rent is late. I'm not really sure what's going on, so just give me a call back, okay? Thanks."

Castiel sighed and looked at the late payment notice. His dad not answering the phone didn't sit well with him. None of this sat well with him. It still felt wrong when Castiel was walking to school, and while he realized it was Saturday, and while walked past the campus aimlessly. It still didn't sit right with him as he walked up to the Roadhouse.

By this point, not hearing from his dad in over an hour was starting to turn this odd situation into full blown anxiety. At least someone had held the door for him. He sat down at a table and wondered if Jo was working. Maybe she'd be able to get him to focus on something other than his rent and his dad. A bunch of guys were over playing foosball and making a bit of noise. Castiel pretended to ignore them, but it did sound like they were having fun.

Jo popped up behind the bar, grabbing some drinks from the counter and walking them over to tables. She saw Castiel and smiled. It helped Castiel calm down a little just knowing that Jo remembered him.

Before he could think about saying hi, the group of loud foosball enthusiasts spilled over to the bar. One of the guys, a blond boy with an outrageously low cut shirt, waved Jo to the bar to order drinks. The other two guys stood with him, leaning over the bar, generally being obnoxious. Jo gave them each a beer and went back to checking on her customers.

As the group went back to the foosball table, one of the boys shoved the blond guy hard against Castiel's table with a hardy laugh. The blond's drink splashed Castiel and thoroughly soaked his shirt.

"Oh, I am sorry," the guy said with a smooth British accent, "My friend has an issue with propriety." He blotted as Castiel's shirt with a few napkins.

Castiel shook his head and grabbed for more napkins. It wasn't a big deal, it was just unexpected.

"You've really got some nice muscle on you," the guy said, "I'm Balthazar by the way."

Castiel looked up at him. Was he hitting on him? What?

Quickly, one of Balthazar's friends came over to the table. "Stop drooling on the poor guy," his friend said, hauling Balthazar away from Castiel. He had longer, darker hair than Balthazar did, but he was also a bit shorter. "I'm sorry about him," Balthazar's friend said, "Are you okay? Do you need anything? More napkins? Alcohol? Therapy? Anything?"

Castiel chuckled a little and said, "I'm fine."

"Good," the guy said.

Jo hustled over, making a shooing motion. She said, "Gabriel, stop pestering my friend."

Gabriel grinned, sitting at the table with Castiel. "What if he's my friend, too? Can I pester him then?" he asked.

Castiel almost laughed.

Jo put her hands on her hips and said, "Just make sure you behave yourself. I don't want you scaring Castiel off, okay?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, and Jo ran back over to the bar as a group of people started ordering drinks.

"So, your name's Castiel?" Gabriel asked.

Castiel nodded, looking at his hands.

Gabriel grew silent. Castiel looked back up at him to see Gabriel fixing him with an appraising gaze.

"What?" Castiel asked.

"You seem kinda shy," Gabriel said, "New to the city?"

Castiel nodded and said, "Yeah, I moved here last month." Gabriel smiled and looked over at his friends playing foosball. Castiel saw the edges of what looked like bruises showing above his popped jacket collar. What had happened to bruise his neck like that? They clearly weren't hickeys or anything.

Gabriel looked back at Castiel and caught him staring. He lowered his collar, and it was clear the marks had been made by fingers.

"Got mugged a few days ago," Gabriel said, his eyes drifting to the table.

"It looks like that hurt," Castiel said.

Gabriel shrugged, but Castiel saw a flash of pain in his eyes that made the other man's smile seem false on his face.

"I've had worse. It's no big deal," Gabriel said, "Anyway, you want to come play foosball with us?"

Castiel looked over to the bar where it was clear that Jo was completely swamped. Well, Gabriel seemed nice enough, and he wasn't particularly worried about Balthazar.

"Sure, okay," Castiel said.

"Awesome!" Gabriel said, pulling Castiel up by his trench coat sleeve, "Come meet everybody."

Castiel followed Gabriel over to the foosball table. Balthazar winked at him, the other guy barely glanced at him from the game he was playing with Balthazar, and Gabriel pulled him over to the others with a large smile on his face. The more Castiel watched Gabriel, the more he got the feeling that his whole personality was a mask. It was unnerving, but Castiel wasn't about to judge him just because he felt the need to hide.

"So, this is Benny," Gabriel said, gesturing to the guy who was so deeply concentrated on the foosball game, "And you've already met Balthazar. Sorry about that again."

Benny scored against Balthazar.

Balthazar shouted, "No! Not fair. Rematch, Benny. C'mon."

Benny grinned and held out his hand. "Nah, I want to play the new guy. Fifteen bucks, Balth," he said with a low southern accent.

Balthazar sighed dramatically and retrieved his wallet from his jacket.

"You want to play?" Benny asked Castiel.

Castiel shrugged and walked over to the other side of the table. It'd been a while since he'd played last, but between him and his dad, Castiel had always been the better player.

"Are we just playing or putting money on it?" Benny asked.

Gabriel said, "Don't hustle the fresh meat, Benny. Just play for now. Let him at least see what he's in for."

"I'm Castiel, by the way," Castiel said.

Benny laughed and said, "Good name. Definitely stands out. Ready?"

Castiel nodded.

Benny and Castiel watched as Gabriel dropped the ball in the middle of the table. Benny's player connected with the ball first. It was almost artistic how quickly and efficiently Benny was turning the bars and spinning his players. It was almost artistic, and yet Benny couldn't sink a single shot. Castiel defended his goal remarkably well. He felt a little rusty but not so out of practice that he couldn't keep his side protected. With one bad pass, Castiel's front players took control of the ball. He spun them, passing the ball closer and closer to Benny's goal. With a small flick of his wrist, Castiel spun his players and sunk the ball deep into Benny's goal.

"Well, then," Benny said, "Let's see if you can keep it up."

When the ball was dropped in the center, Benny once again gained control of the ball. After ten minutes without a single point being scored, it was becoming steadily clear that Benny and Castiel were evenly matched. Benny shot the ball towards Castiel's goal, and Castiel blocked, spinning in such a way that the ball shot across the table. Benny dove to block, but Castiel shot the ball into the goal just in time.

"Damn it!" Benny shouted.

Castiel smiled to himself as Balthazar dropped the ball in the center. He could feel how Balthazar and Gabriel were smiling at him. He could feel how excited they were for Castiel to put up a fight against Benny. He almost felt wanted in a weird way. It was nice. It was nice enough to distract him.

Benny got a shot in that Castiel missed by a hair. He'd gotten distracted, but he'd also gotten cocky. Balthazar and Gabriel gasped when Benny made the shot.

Castiel looked up at Benny. Benny met Castiel's gaze evenly.

The tension was palpable as Gabriel dropped the ball in the center.

This time, Castiel got the ball first. He ran it quickly towards Benny's side of the table, but Benny blocked his attempts at a goal easily. They danced around each other for several minutes. Neither of them were going to give up this game without a fight.

"Benny lines up his shot," Balthazar said in his best announcer voice.

Gabriel said, "Balthazar, I swear if you start that, I will tear your throat out." Castiel blocked the shot and managed to score on Benny. If Castiel made this next shot, he'd win. Balthazar held the ball above the table.

"This is for all the marbles," Gabriel said.

Castiel's fingers tightened around the knobs on his side of the table. Benny stood ready for the ball to drop.

And then Castiel's phone rang. It was his dad. His rent and his dad's answering machine came rushing back to him, leaving him momentarily confused about how he'd forgotten in the first place.

"Sorry," Castiel muttered. He answered his phone and walked away from the foosball table. "Hey, dad," he said.

His dad said, "Hi, I got your message. I'm sorry about that. I completely forgot to send your building money. I've been so busy with work and moving, it must've slipped my mind. I'll fix it by tomorrow, I promise."

A wave of relief washed over Castiel. This was an easy fix. Nothing was wrong. Good.

"Oh, I understand, okay," Castiel said, "Don't worry, I was just confused."

"Yeah, sorry. Didn't mean to alarm you," Dad said, "Hey, listen. I gotta run. Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'll talk to you later," Castiel said.

"Okay," his dad said, "And Castiel? I'm proud of you. I just wanted to tell you that. Bye."

The line went dead, and Castiel stared at his phone, confused. He knew is dad cared, but that was just weird. Something about that whole phone call just didn't feel right.

Before he could think too much about it, Castiel went back over to where he'd been playing Benny. The three guys all turned to look at Castiel.

"Sorry," Castiel said, "That was my dad. I've been trying to get a hold of him. It was important."

Gabriel smiled, and Balthazar said, "As long as you're ready to hand Benny his own ass, I'm cool."

Castiel looked at Benny, and Benny grinned.

"Ready?" Benny asked.

Castiel approached the table, put his hands at the ready, and nodded. Balthazar dropped the ball, and the game was back on.

After twenty minutes of heated offense and defense, Benny shot the ball at Castiel's goal. Castiel lunged for the knob and just managed to block the shot. He returned the ball to Benny's side and engaged with further volley of the ball between his players and Benny's. Finally, Castiel got the ball free and scored the final point.

Benny shouted, "Damn it!"

Balthazar and Gabriel cheered.

Balthazar hugged Castiel tightly, and said, "You are amazing, Castiel!"

Castiel smiled and looked over at Benny. "Again?" he asked.

Benny laughed and said, "Absolutely."


	10. Cold As Ice

Gabriel stared out the window of the library, spinning from side to side slowly in his chair behind the check out desk. He still had two hours left till his shift was over and he could go home. Even though he was bored, he really wished he'd have to stay longer and avoid his house as much as he could. He had no idea how much his dad remembered of their fight, but he'd finally stumbled in that morning. If his dad did remember their fight, Gabriel would be in for it the second he walked in his front door.

"Hey, Naomi," Gabriel called to his supervisor, "Has anyone checked the racks upstairs yet?"

Naomi sighed and gestured to the stairs for Gabriel to check the racks.

Normally, no one checked the book racks during the day since they were a little too busy. The first person to tackle the racks would be at it for quite some time after letting the students have unchecked access for several hours.

Gabriel didn't mind putting the books back in order. It was busy work, easy enough if you knew the Dewey Decimal System by memory. Gabriel typically didn't volunteer for this sort of thing unless he really wanted to put more hours in.

Even if the racks were a putrid mess, even if Gabriel found somebody going down on their boyfriend again, it would be better than going home while his dad was still lurking around. He tried not to think about his brothers handling his dad alone as he trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor.

When he reached the fourth floor door, the sounds of rowdy and boisterous college kids hit his ears. Odds were Benny and Balthazar were in that group, having fun. Sometimes, that knowledge would prompt him to join them for at least a little while. Now, though, Gabriel didn't want to keep his smile going if he didn't have to. Hiding in the racks of books was so much easier than hiding behind a smile and a joke. He decided to tackle the third floor first.

The third floor was quiet, filled with students studying quietly. Gabriel found a discarded stack of books on a table that had clearly been abandoned. He scooped them up and made his way to the dark quiet sanctuary of the book racks.

The first couple of books were about Spanish colonialism, so he quickly headed for the historical section. He felt like he could disappear in all these books. It felt like getting lost in a forest, racks of books reaching almost to the ceiling. It was peaceful, a calming sort of invisibility. His face hurt from keeping up appearances anyway. He placed the first couple of books.

The next book, however, looked incredibly old and had no library code on it. After looking at the first page with its yellowed and frayed paper, Gabriel knew this book wasn't theirs, it was a relic from the archives. How the hell had that gotten mixed in with their books in circulation?

Gabriel quickly took the fragile book back to the archives. He walked through the glass doors, causing the librarian to look up. Gabriel was almost surprised that he didn't know her, but at work, he did try to keep to himself.

He plastered a bright smile on his face and sauntered over to the desk with a hop in his gait.

"Found this in the racks," Gabriel said, "Figured you might want this back."

The librarian looked at the old book, and her eyes widened. "Thank you so much," she said, gingerly taking the book from him.

Gabriel nodded and turned around to leave, knowing full well the librarians would be checking the security footage to know how an archive item got out, when he spotted a familiar trench coat draped over a chair in the archive room.

Gabriel blinked a couple of times to make sure his composure was all there. The guy had seen his bruises, and the look on his face had held enough concern to make Gabriel feel very vulnerable, uncomfortably so. The last thing he wanted to do was go near that kid without his defenses up.

Gabriel walked through the door to the archive room. "Hey, Castiel," he said happily.

Castiel looked up at Gabriel, startled. "Oh, hi," he said quietly.

Gabriel sat at the table across from Castiel and asked, "What brings you to the archives? I hardly ever see anyone in here."

Castiel cocked his head to the side and asked, "Do you normally keep tabs on the comings and goings of students in the archives?"

Gabriel shrugged. "No, not normally. I work here part time, so I do stop by a bit in case the rogue library book ends up trying to be an artifact. It's always a ghost town in here," he said.

Castiel nodded, understanding, and returned to reading what looked like a very old document.

Gabriel could tell when he was in the way. He stood up and said, "Well, I'll leave you to it."

Castiel looked up again, catching Gabriel's gaze. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm actually doing this for fun, you're not bothering me or anything. You can stay if you want, unless you're busy since your working." Castiel closed his mouth and looked a little frustrated with himself.

Gabriel quickly sat back down more than a little curious about this guy. All he knew so far was that Castiel was friends with Jo, he kicked every kind of ass at foosball, and he poured through old documents in the archives for fun. That alone piqued Gabriel's interest.

"I'm technically on the clock, but they never actually check what I'm doing," Gabriel said, "Easiest job ever, really."

Castiel smiled, but his eyes quickly drifted back to the document in front of him.

After a couple minutes of silence, Gabriel asked, "Are you sure I'm not in the way? You seem kind of busy."

Castiel's face flushed, and Gabriel honestly had no idea what was going on anymore.

Castiel pushed the document to the side of the table and said slowly, "I'm not good with people. I don't really have friends, I don't socialize hardly at all, and I am really, very bad at carrying a conversation."

"So, you want my company, but you don't know what to do with it?" Gabriel asked, making sure he had this right.

Castiel nodded, his gaze focusing on the table. Castiel's quiet nature did make much more sense knowing that he had some form of social anxiety. For a psychology major, Gabriel really should have figured that out earlier.

"Well, I'm not much for company, but I'm pretty good at getting people to talk. You sure you want me here?" Gabriel asked.

Castiel nodded and looked at Gabriel like he wanted to say something.

When he didn't say anything, Gabriel asked, "So, of all the things you could do for fun, why the archives?"

"I like learning about people," Castiel said, eyes lighting up in a way that made Gabriel know how passionate he was about reading these decaying documents, "The documents I read are the pieces of someone's life, and I love putting the puzzle together and getting an idea of who these people were. It's sort of the reason I'm a history major."

Gabriel grinned. It was nice to see someone excited about something. Gabriel couldn't remember the last time he felt like that. He wasn't entirely sure he could get excited anymore. He could act like it, sure. He was incredibly convincing when he had to be, but actually feeling something was another story. Gabriel felt a weird sort of wonder at Castiel's enthusiasm for pieces of paper. It was cool to see.

"What sort of stuff are you interested in?" Castiel asked. Gabriel paused. He hadn't expected for Castiel to want to know anything about him, let alone actually ask him a question.

"I don't know," Gabriel said, "Normal stuff."

Castiel fixed Gabriel with a piercing gaze that gave Gabriel the urge to dive under the table and never let that kid look at him again. He felt unbearably vulnerable with those blue eyes staring at him.

"I'm not sure why you feel the need to hide all the time," Castiel said honestly, "But you don't have to do that around me."

"I don't know what you're-" Gabriel started. Castiel cut him off, saying, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's just that I know what it looks like when someone's pretending for the sake of others. But it's none of my business, and I really didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Gabriel said quickly, "Listen, I gotta get back to work. See you around, Castiel." He got up and left the room before Castiel could say another word.

Castiel was a cool guy, and Gabriel wouldn't mind having him as a friend, but he was way too perceptive for his own good. He felt kind of bad for just leaving Castiel there by himself, but that was how Gabriel had found him. It was fine. He was really doing Castiel a favor by leaving. The guy seemed to want friends, and literally everyone on the planet would be a better person to be friends with. Friends were supposed to care about you, be honest with you. Gabriel wasn't capable of that. He was damaged. He was poison. He was broken beyond repair in ways Castiel couldn't ever know about. He'd just drag the poor guy down with him. He wasn't even sure if he knew how to be a friend anymore. All he did was pretend with Benny and Balthazar. If they noticed his act, they didn't care. He just felt so damn hollow. He wished it could just stop.

Out of nothing if not a desire for self-preservation, Gabriel left the archives entirely and went back to placing books.

After his shift was up, Naomi came upstairs and found Gabriel kneeling in the book stacks. "I know how much you love cleaning up after illiterate rodents," she said, "But I took the liberty of clocking you out. Go home, Gabriel."

Gabriel stood up and tried to take this information as the gesture of kindness it was meant to be. He couldn't go home. He didn't want to go there and fight and claw and hit and break. He wanted to do literally anything else. "Thanks, Naomi. See you tomorrow," Gabriel said.

He walked to the stairs and took as much time as he could getting back to the ground floor. He needed to something, something to keep him from going home to his sad excuse of a parent.

Once he got to the first floor and exited the stairwell, he spotted a cascade of black hair framing slender shoulders in a blood red jacket. Kali. Perfect.

Gabriel sidled up to her and said, "Hey, beautiful."

Kali rolled her eyes but smiled. It wasn't a genuine smile, Gabriel knew. He'd seen enough fake smiles in the mirror to know an impostor when he saw one. He knew why, though. While he and Kali were still technically dating, things had been strained for a while, and lately, Gabriel had just been waiting for her to break it off. There was a small part of him that hoped Kali still loved him, but the rest of him knew it'd be incredibly stupid on her part if she did. If he couldn't even be a decent friend, being a half way decent boyfriend was definitely off the table.

Still, there were benefits to not having been dumped yet.

"You want to grab a drink with me?" Gabriel asked with a coy grin, "I'm buying."

Kali looked at him for a moment and some real happiness filtered into her smile. "I would love to, sweetheart, but I'm not in the library for you. I have to study. Maybe some other time," she said.

He nodded and said, "Okay, well, if you change your mind, I'll be at the Roadhouse."

She kissed him on the cheek, and Gabriel was sure they both felt absolutely nothing from it. She glanced away and waved halfheartedly before walking upstairs.

Gabriel grabbed his bag and jacket from behind the check out desk and headed out into the cold.

Once he walked through the door, he almost walked straight into Castiel. Gabriel stopped just in time to miss colliding with the guy's shoulder.

"Hey, sorry, didn't see you," Gabriel said.

Castiel asked, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Gabriel sighed. Whatever Castiel was going to say was going to be too personal, too blunt, and completely uncalled for.

He braced himself and said, "Sure, go ahead, but I'm heading to the Roadhouse, so walk and talk?"

Castiel followed Gabriel towards the Roadhouse without complaint.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I realize that I don't know you and really have no right to have said any of the stuff I said," Castiel said, "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Gabriel looked at how sad the guy looked, like he was feeling guilty. Castiel hadn't done anything but be honest with him. He shouldn't feel bad about that.

Gabriel grabbed Castiel's arm and pulled him behind a building.

"It's fine," Gabriel said, dropping his smile. He knew Castiel could see the difference when the guy got that concerned look back on his face. "It's fine," Gabriel said again, "I know you were trying to be nice, telling me I could be myself around you. I get it."

Castiel looked Gabriel in the eye, and Gabriel knew he was seeing too much.

"I just-I have a lot going on, a lot that nobody can really do anything about," Gabriel said, "The last thing I need is people worrying about me. So, if I have to slap a smile on my face around my friends, then that's what I do."

Castiel nodded but didn't say anything.

Gabriel put his smile back on, and he didn't care if it was only for defense or not. "Now, let's go inside and see what everybody's up to," he said.

Castiel asked quietly, "You're not mad at me, though?"

Gabriel chuckled and said sarcastically, "Yes, Castiel. I'm mad at you for being a caring person. How dare you."

Castiel seemed confused for a moment.

Gabriel sighed, "I'm not mad. Tell you what, if I ever have a personality transplant and feel like talking about my problems, I'll come to you. In the meantime, I hear you have a lack of friends and social confidence. I'm not your best option, but if you want a friend, I'm here."

Castiel smiled brightly. It would've felt nice to know he made someone so happy if it weren't for the nagging knowledge that Gabriel was a worthless piece of shit and that it was only a matter of time before Castiel caught onto that fact like everyone else. After all, why would anyone else like Gabriel if he couldn't even like himself?

"C'mon, let's go inside. I'm starving," Gabriel said, grinning.

Castiel followed.

The night consisted of drinks, cheese fries, foosball, laughs, and a general good time. Apparently, someone else was capable of beating Benny at foosball. Earlier in the day, Benny's new coworker had bested him in three consecutive games. Benny was still grouching about it even as he won games against Balthazar and Gabriel without hardly even trying. They really needed to get that guy and Castiel together and see who the real foosball champion was.

At the end of the night, Benny, Balthazar, and Castiel headed off to their own places, each of them saying goodnight to Gabriel.

It had been a good night, but he knew what was probably waiting for him at home. He'd managed to avoid going home all day, and it was much later than he normally came home. Last time he stayed out this late, he'd had his father's hands wrapped around his throat. He deserved what he had coming to him.

Gabriel walked home alone, hoping that he would actually get mugged one of these days. Wouldn't that be a nice distraction from everything else. Gabriel went home knowing that no matter if his father's fists were waiting for him or not, he was a dead man walking.


	11. Knockin' On Heaven's Door

Dean walked with Sam, Charlie, and Dorothy towards Jody's shelter, laughing about something. He honestly couldn't remember what Charlie had said to make them all crack up, but it had been hilarious enough that he was still having a hard time calming down. He hadn't laughed like that in years.

As they got closer to the shelter, the laughter died down quickly. The doors were closed. Shit.

Dean hurried over to the shelter doors, but it was definitely closed for the night.

"What time is it?" Sam asked. None of them had phones they could check.

Dorothy looked at her watch and said, "Guys, the shelter closed an hour ago." No way was it that late.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, rejoining them.

Dorothy nodded and showed him her watch.

Son of a bitch.

"Well, we could go back to the Roadhouse," Sam said, "Maybe Bobby will let us stay the night again."

"No, there was a cop poking around today. He couldn't even let Jo work. There's no way he's gonna risk letting us crash there."

Charlie said, "Well, we could wait for a bus."

"And get on with what money?" Dorothy asked.

Sam chuckled and said, "You know, this is kind of ironic. We're moving into the apartment tomorrow and get totally screwed on our last day on the streets."

"Sam, not helping," Dean said.

They were going to have to hunker down again. It was crazy cold out, and they had to be out all night.

Charlie looked at Dean, and it looked like they had the same idea. "Alley?" she asked.

Dean shrugged and said, "It's too late to sneak into the library or something. If we want any sort of sleep, alley it is."

Sam sighed, and Dean felt terrible. Staying in an alley was the worst. It was dangerous, especially when it was this cold out. Sam deserved better.

"I've got a blanket we can share," Dean said, "But we'll need insulation."

Charlie nodded for the others to follow her. At the end of the block, she gestured to a couple newsstands and asked, "The Union or The Red Eye?"

Dean grabbed a stack of each. This night was going to suck horribly. At least they all had jackets and gloves now.

"Here," Dean said, handing Sam some of the papers, "You know the drill."

Dorothy looked at them, confused.

Sam began stuffing newspaper in crumpled balls in his sleeves and down his shirt. Dorothy took a copy of The Union from Dean but looked at it uncertainly. Charlie had mentioned Dorothy was new to being homeless.

"The newspaper can help keep you from losing too much heat," Dean explained as Charlie started stuffing her jacket, "The most important part is to insulate your core so if you go hypothermic, you don't have heart failure. Want help?"

Dorothy looked at Dean gratefully.

Dean took The Union from her and wadded up a few pages, stuffing her sleeves at the armpits.

"Thanks, Dean," Dorothy said. She took care of the rest after getting the gist.

Sam asked, "Where do you want to stay tonight?"

"This is a decent neighborhood," Charlie said, "Why don't we just pick an alley?"

They turned down the first alley they found.

Sam grabbed Dean's bag as Dean helped the girls finish packing newspaper into their coats and pants. Sam pulled out the blanket, tossing it to Charlie. It was big enough to shield them from the wind, but it wasn't all that thick. Still, it was better than nothing. Sam looked at Dean as he huddled up with Charlie and Dorothy.

"Aren't you going to use the newspaper, too?" Sam asked Dean.

Dean shrugged. The cold never really bothered him, but the look Sam was giving him made Dean grab a couple copies of the Red Eye. He stuffed paper everywhere he could until he used the last piece of newspaper.

Sam and Charlie both had their arms around Dorothy, cuddling together as much as they could. Using Sam and Dean's backpacks as pillows, the three of them huddled up under the blanket.

Charlie lifted up part of the blanket so Dean could join them. He slotted himself behind Charlie and wrapped his arms around the tiny redhead.

"Just don't get any ideas back there, Winchester," Charlie said.

Dean laughed and said, "Don't worry. You guys are like the little sisters I never wanted. I wouldn't even consider it."

Dorothy laughed a little at that.

Slowly, the three of them fell asleep.

Dean was tired as hell, but he had no intention of sleeping. Someone had to stay up and keep watch in case something happened in the night. However, being surrounded by sleeping people as the night turned into the darkness of early morning made it increasingly difficult to keep awake. Watching his breath come out in puffs of cold vapor started to become hypnotic. He couldn't fight it as his eyes finally drifted closed.

He was in John Winchester's truck. He could feel his anxiety rising before he even realized he was dreaming.

John sat in the driver's seat, tears in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Dean," he said.

Dean knew what was going to happen. He hoped he could one day forget.

"Dad, don't," Dean heard himself say.

John smiled at Dean, put the old Colt in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

Dean screamed and woke up gasping. He looked at the others, relieved he didn't wake any of them up. He very carefully removed himself from around Charlie, who shifted in her sleep and held onto Dorothy tighter.

Dean tucked the edge of the blanket under her and stood up. He'd had a night sweat, and if he didn't do something about it quick, he'd wind up freezing to death for sure. He took a deep breath, trying to get his breathing under control. He tried to think of something, anything that wasn't his dad. He could still hear that gunshot echoing in his ears. He hadn't a nightmare about it in a very long time, but every time he did dream about it, it always got worse.

Dean walked over to a dumpster at the end of the alley and unzipped his jacket. Slowly, he removed the soaked newspaper from his sleeves, shirt, and pants. Luckily, the newspaper had absorbed almost all of the sweat, and Dean's clothes were still dry. He zipped back up, sticking his gloved hands in his pockets.

The sun was starting to brighten the cloudy sky. He'd slept for a few hours, which was better than he'd expected to get. If he went back to sleep now, he knew he'd watch his dad die again, and he just couldn't deal with that right now. Dean walked back over to the family he did have. All of them were still breathing. Thank God.

The weight of his pocket knife in his pocket made him feel a little more secure, but after a dream like that, there wasn't much that could keep him from feeling gut wrenching fear. Sometimes he hated his dad for searing those memories in his head. He hated that his dad checked out early, he hated that his dad hadn't even tried, but he really hated that his dad would do something so horrible in front of him. He must've been in a staggering amount of pain to willingly put all that shit on Dean.

Dean took a deep breath, made sure everyone was still asleep, and left the alley. He walked to the newsstand and grabbed a few copies of the Red Eye. It would only get warmer from here, but he would still need the extra warmth for a few hours.

Once he was back in the alley, safe from the slicing strength of the early morning Chicago wind, he started packing his jacket with newspaper. He slid to the ground near Charlie and pulled out his pocket knife. His dad had given it to him as a kid. When he'd first gotten it, he treasured it. It was something his father had trusted him with. It was tool, useful, sharp. After what happened, though...after his dad killed himself, it took a lot of strength to keep Dean from chucking it into Lake Michigan. It was all he had left of John Winchester. He couldn't get rid of it. But sometimes, sometimes when he blamed his dad for leaving, blamed himself for not stopping him, that was all he wanted to do. Dean turned the blade over in his hands.

Before he decided to keep the knife again, Charlie shuttered violently next to him.

Dean put the knife away and looked at his sleeping family. Today, they'd all have a roof over their heads. Sam seemed to be sleeping soundly, Dorothy was curled up against him peacefully, but Charlie shook in her sleep. Upon closer inspection, Dean saw Charlie's lips had started to turn blue.

Without a moment's hesitation, he slipped under the blanket and turned Charlie over to face him.

Charlie slowly opened her eyes and sleepily said, "Dean, what-"

Dean unzipped his jacket and said softly, "Charlie, put your arms in my coat. You're losing too much heat."

She tried to prop herself up and her eyes widened when she couldn't. "I can't feel my arms," she said.

Dean pulled her up and helped her hug him, wrapping his jacket around her. Charlie buried her face in his chest, shaking.

"You're just cold," Dean said, "You'll be fine. We can go to the apartment in a few hours."

Charlie nodded against his chest and held onto him tighter. Well, at least she could still move her arms. Once she warmed up, she'd be fine.

As the sun rose higher, the air started to get slowly warmer. Charlie stopped shivering entirely by the time Sam and Dorothy started stirring. Sam met Dean's gaze tiredly, and Dean felt awful that they'd had to sleep in an alley. Again. But that was the last time they'd have to do it, and that was something.

"Ready to go home?" Dean asked.

Dorothy smiled excited at Dean and Charlie.

Sam got up stiffly but quickly.

Charlie stood up slowly and extended her gloved hand to Dean. "Let's go home," she said.


	12. Point of No Return

Sam caught up with Luci at his locker. "Hey," he said, smiling.

Luci dropped a stack of books into his locker roughly. "Hey, Sam," he said.

"So, umm," Sam said, unable to keep from grinning, "Do you want to come over to my place after school?"

Luci's eyes lit up and asked, "You guys moved in?"

Sam nodded excitedly, and Luci hugged him tightly.

When Luci pulled away, he said, "This is perfect, actually. I want to cut my hair, but I can't do it where my parents can see. Could you help me?"

Sam shrugged. "We don't really have anything yet," he said, "But if you bring scissors or something, I don't see why not."

Luci hugged him quickly and said, "You're the best."

The bell for class rang, and they jumped apart.

"See you after school," Luci said, squeezing Sam's arm before running off to class. Sam hurried to his math class, already counting down to the end of the day.

After school let out, Luci met Sam at his locker. Sam pulled on his jacket and grabbed his bag as Luci watched him.

"Ready?" Luci asked.

Sam nodded, grabbing his boyfriend's hand. Luci was going to meet the family. This would be interesting.

They went outside where Luci caught Sam with a quick kiss. He said, "I'm going to go to my place to steal my dad's clippers. I'll be over after, okay?"

Sam nodded before saying, "Here, let me give you the address." He held Luci's hand, palm up, and scribbled his address on Luci's palm in pen. "See you later," he said.

Sam pressed his lips to Luci's slowly and deeply.

When they broke apart, Luci gasped, "Now, I really can't wait to get to your place."

Sam grinned.

Luci pulled away reluctantly and headed to his house.

Sam turned around, smiling like an idiot, and saw Dean waiting for him.

"Not a word," Sam said when he fell in step with his brother.

Dean grinned and said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Sammy."

They started to walk home when Dean sang mockingly, "Sammy's got a girlfriend."

"Boyfriend, actually," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked, "Then, who's the girl you were just making out with?"

"My boyfriend."

"You've lost me, Sam."

Sam said evenly, "Luci is transgender. While he'd biologically female, he is definitely a guy. And he's coming over today."

"But she's...he's...not even trying to look like a guy," Dean said, "And you invited...him...over to the apartment without telling anyone?"

Sam sighed and said, "I'm telling you now, and I'm helping Luci cut his hair today, so right now, his gender presentation is a work in progress. And just because you're one gender doesn't mean you have to look it all the time, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Do not misgender my boyfriend," Sam said sternly, "I'm happy, he's happy, and if you start acting like Dad about it-"

"I get it," Dean said, flinching, "You're into dudes, and your boyfriend, regardless of having lady parts, is a dude. I get it. Just give Charlie and Dorothy a head's up before he comes over."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said sincerely.

Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder and shoved him towards their apartment building. "Don't mention it," he said.

Luci showed up fifteen minutes later, which was more than enough time to get Charlie and Dorothy up to speed. Luckily for Sam, he didn't need to explain what being transgender meant. Charlie and Dorothy already knew and understood just fine.

Sam buzzed Luci in and tried to fight the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. They'd like him. It'd be fine.

When Sam opened the door for Luci, he was still holding his breath.

"Nice place," Luci said, walking into the empty apartment.

Charlie said, "Hi, I'm Charlie. I'm..." She seemed to flounder at how she related to Sam.

"She's my roommate, kind of like a sister at this point," Sam supplied.

Charlie beamed.

Luci smiled and shook Charlie's hand. "I'm Luci," he said.

"Dorothy!" Charlie called, "You want to meet Sam's boyfriend?"

Luci glanced at Sam, surprised.

Dorothy came from down the hall. "Hi, I'm Dorothy," she said quietly, "I'm, uh, Charlie's...friend."

Charlie looked at Dorothy, and Sam started wondering if there was something going on with them.

"Also basically a sister," Sam explained.

Luci smiled and waved politely.

Sam looked over at Dean who was sitting on the floor and sighed. "And that's my brother, Dean," he said. Dean was screwing on new outlet covers but raised a hand to wave halfheartedly without bothering to look over.

Luci nodded and looked at Sam. "So, do I get a tour?" he asked.

"Oh, right," Sam said, "Well, that's the kitchen, and this is the living room." He gestured for Luci to follow him down the hall. In order from right to left at the end of the hall, Sam pointed to the doors and said, "Dean's room, Charlie and Dorothy's room, and this is my room."

Luci grinned and opened the door to Sam's room. "I don't know what I was expecting, but I thought you'd at least have a bed," he said.

All Sam had in his room was his blanket on the floor. He had scrunched it up at night to use as a pillow.

"We haven't had time to furniture shop yet," Sam said.

Luci shrugged and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Well, it's got a roof, right?" he said.

Sam joined his boyfriend on the floor. The carpet was soft, the roof existed, the place was a dream come true.

"So," Luci said, "We're in your bedroom, we're alone, what do you want to do?" It may have just been Sam, but every one of those words felt suggestive as they came out of his boyfriend's mouth.

"That depends," Sam said, "Do you want to cut your hair before or after making out?"

Luci lay down on his side and said, "You told your family about my gender so I'd feel comfortable, didn't you?"

Sam nodded, smiling at his boyfriend.

"Come here," Luci said.

Sam obeyed instantly, his lips meeting Luci's softly. Luci kissed back with rough force. Sam quickly picked up the pace to match his boyfriend's intensity. Luci rolled Sam on his back and straddled his hips, kissing furiously. Sam ran his hands up Luci's sides as Luci dug his fingers in Sam's hair.

They broke apart for a moment to calm down a bit. Sam smiled up at Luci, and Luci drowned Sam with his intense, dark gaze. From where Luci was seated, there was no way he didn't know how turned on by all this Sam was.

Luci leaned back down to kiss Sam, but his long hair got in the way and in Sam's mouth.

Sam sputtered, and Luci rolled off of him laughing.

"Okay," Luci said, "Maybe the hair should go now."

Sam chuckled and tried to will his boner away. "Yeah, probably," he said, "How short do you want it?"

"Shorter than yours," Luci said, tousling Sam's hair playfully.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sam asked.

Luci handed him the clippers and said, "More than anything."

Sam said, "Alright, does this thing have a cord or-"

"It's battery operated," Luci said.

Sam nodded appreciatively and said, "Nice." He switched on the clippers. "How short is too short?" he asked.

Luci said, "Not as short as your brother's. I still want it to be a little shaggy."

"Okay," Sam said. He grabbed the balled up blanket and had Luci sit on top of it. They didn't exactly own a vacuum, and Sam didn't want to even think about the shit Dean would give him if he found Luci's hair trimmings all over Sam's floor.

So, with everything in place, Sam went to work trimming down Luci's hair. He buzzed off the first large lock of hair, and his heart leaped into his throat. He hoped Luci knew he'd never done this sort of thing before. Since Sam had already started, he felt no need to stress Luci out by telling him now. He continued trimming until he could see the back of Luci's neck. Then, he started focusing on evening out what was left to work with.

While Sam worked, Luci asked, "So, are Charlie and Dorothy together?"

Sam laughed and said, "I have no idea. As far as I know, they're just friends, but I wouldn't be surprised if Charlie was interested. Not sure if Dorothy swings that way, though."

Luci hummed to himself and said, "I think they'd make a cute couple."

Sam had to agree, but he didn't feel like it was his place to say anything to either of the girls.

Sam turned off the clippers and asked, "What do you think?"

Luci felt his hair and turned to face Sam with an ecstatic grin. "Do you have a mirror?" he asked.

Sam's boyfriend was positively thrumming with excitement. It was sort of amazing to see.

"Yeah," Sam said, "In the bathroom."

Sam led Luci to the bathroom at the front of the hall.

Luci hopped inside and instantly studied his reflection.

"So?" Sam asked.

Luci felt the back of his neck, and his smile pushed up into his eyes. "I love it," he said, "I feel so light now." Luci squeezed Sam with a crushing hug. "Thank you, Sam," he said.

"Back to my room?" Sam asked.

Luci nodded emphatically, released Sam, and raced to the room. Sam had never seen Luci so happy. He only hoped he could make his boyfriend this happy all the time.

Sam joined Luci in his room and grinned.

Luci was staring at all the left over hair. "That's a lot of hair," he said, "I'm never having my hair that long again."

"Are your parents going to be okay with this?" Sam asked.

Luci sighed happily and said, "No. They're going to freak out, but I don't care. You have no idea how good it feels to see my reflection. I've never felt more like myself ever."

"I'm glad you're happy," Sam said.

"Happy? Happy doesn't even-" Luci started. He cut himself off by kissing Sam within an inch of his life.

Sam kicked the blanket full of hair out of the way and brought them down to the ground. Luci rolled Sam on his back and pinned his hand above his head as Luci kissed trails across Sam's face and neck. Sam couldn't even think from how good it felt.

After several minutes of blissful abuse from Luci's mouth, Luci sat back, rocking against Sam's hips pleasantly.

"I love you," Luci said.

Sam stared at his boyfriend. Did he just-

"I love you, too," Sam replied quickly. He kissed Luci hard, dragging a moan from his boyfriend's lips.

They stayed in Sam's room for a few hours, rolling from Luci straddling Sam to making out side by side. Occasionally, they'd break for air, sometimes talking, sometimes cuddling. It felt like Heaven or a very delicious kind of Hell.

Eventually, Luci had to leave.

When Sam came back from walking him out, Dean tossed a box of condoms at him with an impish grin on his face.

"Dean, what the-" Sam started.

"He's got a vagina, you've got a penis, and kids aren't the only thing you could catch from being stupid," Dean said, "Now, what do you want for dinner?"

Sam sighed and threw the box in his room. "Burgers?" he called. Maybe they'd be able to have something slightly better than McDonald's tonight.

Charlie opened her door and asked, "Someone say burgers?"

"Burgers it is!" Dean said.

Sam returned from his room to see Dean pull out a package of ground beef.

"Wait, you're making burgers? We have food?" Sam asked.

"Well, I can't start at school till next semester," Dean said, "So, yeah, I got us food. Furniture shopping this weekend, too."

Sam opened the fridge and smiled. It wasn't a lot, and there was unsurprisingly a package of bacon in there, but Dean had gotten some of the green stuff Sam liked, too.

Best. Day. Ever.


	13. Don't Look Back

They had the apartment to themselves. Sam was at the movies with Luci, Dean was work, and Dorothy sat the corner of their room, reading a well worn book.

What Charlie wouldn't have given for a book...or a TV. The apartment had nothing. They didn't even have cheap magnets to watch slide down the refrigerator.

"What are you reading?" Charlie asked, breaking the silence.

Dorothy looked up, slightly startled. She blinked a few times and set the book down. "It's, uh, it's The Hobbit," she said.

Charlie smiled to herself. Of course it was. As if Charlie wasn't into her enough already.

"What?" Dorothy asked at Charlie's smile.

"I love The Hobbit," Charlie said.

Dorothy grinned and asked, "Have you read it before?"

And there it was. Crossing into that territory of personal information.

"Yeah," Charlie said, "You should keep reading it. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Dorothy smiled and scooted over towards Charlie. "You want to do something?" she asked.

Charlie asked, "Like what?"

"We could play tic-tac-toe," Dorothy said.

"On what? We don't have paper or anything," Charlie said.

Dorothy dragged her finger through the carpet in front of them and made a grid.

"See, this is why we keep you around," Charlie said, laughing, "X's or O's?"

Dorothy shrugged and said, "Your choice."

Charlie dug an X into the center square.

Dorothy slowly formed an O in the box to the left of the X and asked, "So, how'd you like The Hobbit?"

Charlie swallowed. She said, "It's personal, and I don't know if you'd actually want to hear my story, so I'd rather-"

"I'd like to hear your story if you want to tell me," Dorothy said.

Charlie paused. She wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to bring it up. The less she talked about it, the easier it was.

"How about this?" Charlie said, "You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

Dorothy grinned and said, "You don't want to know about me."

Charlie laughed, "Well, that's just not true."

Dorothy blushed slightly. "I don't know," she said, "I don't want to scare you off."

Charlie's imagination started running. What could scare Charlie off? Was Dorothy affiliated with the mafia? Was she a serial killer?

"I doubt you will," Charlie said, "But I'll go first if that's easier."

Dorothy nodded and gave Charlie her full attention.

"Okay," Charlie said, "Well, to answer your question, I love The Hobbit. My mom used to read it to me all the time as a kid, and that's why-" She paused. She didn't want to get all emotional in front of Dorothy. She took a deep breath and explained, "My parents were in a car accident a few years ago. My dad died right away, but my mom was in the hospital. They didn't know if she'd wake up. The first time I read The Hobbit for myself, I was reading it to my mom. I read it to her until they took her off of life support."

Dorothy gave Charlie a sympathetic look, but she didn't look away or show her any pity. It helped Charlie to breathe a little easier.

Charlie continued, "I was in the foster system for a couple months, but that guy wasn't exactly nice, so I ran off. I hit the streets and after a few years, I met you. That's really all there is to tell."

Dorothy covered Charlie's hand with hers, squeezing her fingers reassuringly. "I'm sorry you lost your parents," she said, "I, uhh, I kind of lost mine, too."

"Kind of?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy took her hand back and said, "They lost me, actually."

Charlie watched Dorothy, seeing if she'd continue. Dorothy looked at Charlie, deciding whether to speak.

"They kicked me out," Dorothy said, "I realized a while ago that I liked girls, and I started liking this girl at school. She didn't feel the same way, made a big stink to the principal about getting different classes from me. And that's how my parents found out."

"And they kicked you out for that?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy nodded, blinking enough to tell Charlie that she was close to tears. "Yeah," she said, voice cracking a little, "They, uhh, they said I needed to go to conversion therapy. I told them there was nothing wrong with me, and they told me I couldn't stay there. My mom told me I'm not part of the family anymore and my dad, well, he said I'm dead to him."

"Shit," Charlie said, "I'm so sorry."

"I tried getting them to let me back in," Dorothy said, a few tears slipping, "But they...they actually locked me out. I went back everyday, trying to get them to talk to me. I mean, it's not like I'm a different person or anything. I'm still me. But they don't see it that way, I guess. And then I met you."

"You haven't gone back since we've been hanging out, though," Charlie said.

Dorothy nodded and said, "You make me feel more comfortable. Why would I keep putting myself through their rejection when you and Sam and Dean seem to like me just fine?"

"That's a fair point," Charlie said, "What about that was supposed to scare me off?"

Dorothy said, "I wasn't sure how you'd take my sexuality."

"You know I'm gay, right?" Charlie asked.

"Well, yeah," Dorothy said.

Charlie said, "Dorothy, unlike your parents, I personally like that you're a lesbian."

Dorothy laughed a little and wiped her face on the back of her sleeve. "And why's that?" she asked. Charlie's heart thudded in her chest. She said, "Because we have absolutely no shortage of queer in this place. It's great."

"Well, except Dean," Dorothy said.

Charlie laughed and said, "I dunno. If he found the right guy, you never know what could happen."

"And then we could paint the walls rainbow and have a pride parade in our living room," Dorothy joked.

Charlie flopped back on the carpet laughing. Dorothy joined her, totally obscuring their attempted tic-tac-toe game.

Charlie tried not to be too excited about Dorothy being a lesbian. She tried really hard. Slowly, she started moving her arms and legs across the carpet.

"What are you doing?" Dorothy asked.

"Making a carpet angel," Charlie said.

Dorothy raised her eyebrows, expecting an explanation.

When Charlie was done, she hopped up and gestured to the carpet. "See?" she said.

Dorothy stood up and smiled. "I think that would be more effective in the snow," she said.

Charlie said, "Well, yeah, of course it would, but we don't have snow, we have carpet, so carpet angels." She flopped back down and started making a new one.

Dorothy grinned down at her. "You look ridiculous," she said.

Charlie said, "I look ridiculous? You're the one not making a carpet angel."

Dorothy rolled her eyes and laid down next to Charlie. After a minute, they were both making carpet angels.

"Hey, Charlie?" Dorothy asked.

"Yeah?" Charlie replied, staring up at the ceiling.

"If you liked me, would you tell me?" Dorothy asked.

Charlie stopped making her carpet angel. She propped herself up on an elbow and looked at Dorothy.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy said, "Well, I just want to know...if you had feelings for me, would I know already, or would you keep it to yourself?"

Charlie froze, staring at Dorothy. How the fuck should she answer that? Either answer would be telling Dorothy that she liked her or that she didn't. But she didn't want to lie to her. But they had to share a room, they just moved in together. What if she- Screw it.

Charlie took a deep breath and said, "I would keep it to myself."

Dorothy nodded and asked, "And if I asked you how you felt about me-"

"I'd tell you the truth."

"So, how-"

"I like you, Dorothy," Charlie said quickly.

Dorothy smiled and said, "Good."

Charlie didn't move, stunned. What?

"Wait, what?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy said, "Well, it would be fairly awkward to share a room if you didn't feel the same way."

"Wait, you-you what?" Charlie stammered.

Dorothy rolled on her side and smiled at Charlie. "I like you. I have for a while now, actually," she said.

Charlie laughed and hoped it didn't come out too hysterical.

Dorothy asked, "Would you mind if I kissed you?"

Charlie couldn't function enough to form words. She pressed her lips to Dorothy's softly. Dorothy slid closer to her, kissing her back.

Charlie broke the kiss, grinning from ear to ear. "We must get some serious dyke points for moving in together before even kissing," she said.

Dorothy laughed and kissed Charlie again.


	14. Movin' On

Castiel stared at his door. This couldn't be happening. And yet it was. The pink eviction notice glared at him from where it was taped to his apartment door. He'd called his dad, he'd told him about the missing rent. Everything should've been fine.

Castiel pulled out his cell phone and called his dad right there in the middle of his hallway. It would've been a good plan if his hallway wasn't a dead zone.

Castiel walked inside his apartment, waited till he had signal and dialed again. His dad's voicemail picked up quickly.

A sliver of icy fear pressed into Castiel's chest. He hung up and dialed again. His dad's phone was ringing, it was definitely on, but the voicemail kicked in again. Castiel hung up and called again. And again. And again.

And again.

After hearing the voicemail half a dozen times, he fought the urge to throw his phone against the wall and managed to leave a message.

"Hey, Dad," Castiel said after the beep, "I got an eviction notice today. They say I've got two days to pay the rent, Dad. Either that or I'll be kicked out. I'd really rather not be homeless, so if you could call me back, that'd be great."

Castiel stared at his silent phone, waiting for it to ring, for five full minutes before he snatched up his phone and called his dad again. The voicemail answered him, and Castiel slipped his phone in his pocket, rushing back out of his apartment. He needed to breathe and relax.

He headed for the Roadhouse. Maybe his friends would know what he should do. His feet knew before his head how much he didn't want to tell them about the situation. He barely knew any of them. His problems would be a burden at best.

His feet brought him to the library. It was getting late, but Castiel's refuge was still open. He didn't want to bother his friends, but if he slipped into the archives and lost himself in someone else's life, maybe he could forget his own for a while.

He hurried through the front door and bee lined for the archive room. He reached the stairwell when he heard someone call, "Castiel!"

Castiel stopped halfway to the second floor and turned around to see Gabriel looking up at him from the lower staircase.

"Hey, are you okay?" Gabriel asked.

Castiel made no move to descend the stairs, but replied, "Yes, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Gabriel said, climbing the stairs to make it easier to talk, "I saw you walk in here. You look like someone ran over your dog."

"I don't have a dog," Castiel said.

"Not the point," Gabriel said, "What's going on?"

"It's complicated."

"So, explain it to me."

"It's a long story."

"I've got all night."

Castiel sighed, seeing that Gabriel wasn't going to give him a moment's peace if he didn't tell him.

"I got an eviction notice," Castiel said.

Gabriel's eyes widened. "Shit, what happened?" he asked.

"My dad pays my rent," Castiel said, "He didn't want me to have to work and have a full course load. But he didn't pay my rent or something else happened, and I can't get a hold of him, and I'm really worried that-"

Gabriel hopped up the steps between them and hugged Castiel. "It's gonna be okay," he said, "We'll figure this out."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked, pulling back.

Gabriel slapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder and said, "You're part of the group now. We take care of each other."

"You don't let them take care of you," Castiel pointed out.

Gabriel ignored Castiel's comment and said, "C'mon, let's go to the Roadhouse and see if we can't figure something out."

"Aren't you working?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel pulled Castiel back down to the first floor. Once back in the lobby, Gabriel called out, "Hey, Naomi, clock me out. My friend's having a crisis."

Castiel warmed at Gabriel's mention of him as his friend. It was nice not being alone. The librarian behind the circulation desk, Naomi, rolled her eyes and waved Gabriel off.

"You're not going to get in trouble for this?" Castiel asked as they walked outside.

Gabriel said quickly, "Nah, it's fine. She hates working with me anyway."

They got to the Roadhouse in no time at all.

Two women were making out against the building. Castiel averted his eyes quickly. Gabriel ripped the door open and pushed Castiel inside.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of this," Castiel said.

"Make a big deal out of what?" Balthazar asked, walking past with enough orders of nachos to feed a small army.

Castiel looked at Gabriel, worried. He barely knew these guys. They were nice enough to hang out with, but this was too personal, too big for acquaintances to help with.

Gabriel smiled and said, "Relax. C'mon." He steered Castiel towards the booths near the foosball tables where Benny and Balthazar were digging into the piles of nachos.

Benny looked up at Gabriel, grinning, and asked, "You see those lesbians outisde?"

Castiel sat down in the booth across from Balthazar.

Gabriel, scooting in next to Castiel, asked Benny, "How do you know they're lesbians?"

Benny rolled his eyes and said, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't think to ask for their specific sexualities, Gabriel. Let me try again. Did you see the two gorgeous women making out outside?"

Before Gabriel could respond, a voice came from the booth behind them, "Hey, those are my roommates you're talking about."

The voice was so close to the back of Castiel's head, he froze, keeping completely still with his eyes glued to the table. Didn't people respect personal space anymore?

"Well, Dean, I hate to break it to you," Benny said, looking just above Castiel's head, "But your roommates are hot."

Castiel wanted to crawl away from the table and be anywhere away from physically in the middle of this conversation.

The guy behind Castiel said, "We'll talk about this at work."

Benny laughed and said, "Yeah, like you'll take time away from that car of yours to talk to me."

"I will if you're talking about my friends like they're pieces of meat," Dean said.

Benny said defensively, "I was not objectifying them."

"You kinda were," Gabriel said.

"Shut up," Benny said.

Dean laughed and said, "I gotta go get my brother before he comes home with a dog or something. Just watch it, dude."

Benny smiled and waved as Castiel heard the shifting behind him of Benny's friend getting up to leave. Benny looked at Castiel and said, "I hope you know I wasn't being disrespectful about the girls. I'm sure they're nice people. They're just nice people who happen to be very good looking."

Castiel just shrugged.

Benny sighed and said, "Someone change the subject before I say something else the wrong way."

Balthazar said quickly, "Well, Cassie here has something he doesn't want to make a big deal out of."

Benny looked at Castiel with eyebrows raised, and Castiel dropped his head to the table.

Gabriel patted his shoulder. "He got an eviction notice," he explained.

"Oh, shit," Benny said, "They cut your hours at work or something?"

Castiel lifted his head off the table and said, "I don't have a job."

At the confused looks around the table, Gabriel said, "His pops pays the rent, but he's gone AWOL, not even answering the phone."

"Maybe it's just my phone," Castiel said. He knew he was grasping at straws. He'd heard his dad's answering machine. He knew something else was wrong.

Benny tossed Castiel his phone and said, "Guess you should find out."

Castiel dialed his dad's number again. After a couple of rings, voices in the background made it sound like his dad picked up.

"Dad?" Castiel said.

Immediately, the line went dead.

His dad couldn't be ignoring him. He couldn't.

Castiel dialed again and heard his father's voicemail. Holy shit.

Castiel handed back Benny's phone and sat back against his seat, stunned. His dad couldn't be avoiding his calls. He couldn't be. Why would he?

Benny gave Castiel a sympathetic glance. Gabriel looked at Castiel, worried. Balthazar pushed an order of nachos towards him.

After a moment of shocked silence, Benny said, "Wish we'd known about this sooner. Dean just got a new apartment. We could've asked him while he was here."

"I'm not going to ask someone I don't even know to let me move in," Castiel said.

"Why don't you move in with me?" Balthazar asked.

Castiel stared at him in shock. "You'd let me live with you?" he asked. Balthazar smiled and said, "I have a roommate, Garth, and I live on campus, so it's not what you'd call ideal, but it's better than the streets, right?"

"Don't they do floor inspections?" Gabriel asked.

"While they do inspections, Castiel can stay with me," Benny said.

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked, "Are you both sure about this?"

"Yeah," Balthazar said, "We'll take care of you. What are friends for?"

Benny nodded.

"Thank you," Castiel said softly. He didn't deserve this much kindness from them. He eyed the nachos in front of him and considered popping one in his mouth just because he didn't know what else to say. He'd never be able to thank them enough.

"So, when are you getting kicked out?" Gabriel asked.

Castiel said quietly, "Two days."

"What are you going to do with your stuff?" Benny asked.

Castiel dropped his head in his hands. "I don't know," he muttered, "I don't have much."

"Well, that'll make it easy," Gabriel said.

"Do you want to stay with me tonight?" Balthazar asked, "That way you can meet Garth, see the place, and you won't have to be alone."

"That's so thoughtful of you, Balthazar," Gabriel teased, "You almost had me thinking you have a heart."

Balthazar smirked at Gabriel as Castiel said, "I'd like that, Balthazar. Thank you."

Balthazar said, "Great. Now, that just leaves one question. Do you want to empty your apartment tonight?"

Castiel shrugged halfheartedly. He might as well get rid of all his stuff sooner rather than later. "Sure," he said.

Gabriel clapped Castiel on the back with a reassuring grin. Castiel could tell how every expression Gabriel had was carefully constructed and planned and forced. Gabriel might not have had an altogether genuine smile for Castiel, but he tried, and that's what counted.

After his friends devoured the remaining nachos, Castiel led them to his soon to be former apartment. He had some books that he fit into his backpack, but they were all for school. He had some clothes he fit in his bag, too.

Otherwise, the bedspread, the beanbag chair, his small movie collection, his copy of To Kill a Mockingbird, and the few posters he had were all destined for abandonment.

Later, as Benny tossed the last piece of Castiel's life into the dumpster, Balthazar put an arm around Castiel's shoulders. "It'll be okay," he said.

Castiel looked at Gabriel and caught a haunted sadness in his eyes.

Gabriel quickly hid himself behind a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Castiel," he said, "We'll keep you fed and warm. You'll be okay."

They walked off towards Balthazar's dorm together.

Castiel wished they could've set fire to his old belongings. At least then, his life would be in ashes, and he wouldn't be so tempted to look back.

He wasn't worried about himself. He'd get by, his friends were clearly there for him.

He was worried about Gabriel and whatever pain he was hiding. He was worried about his dad and whatever was keeping him from contacting his son. But he wasn't worried about himself.

Castiel might miss his independence, but he'd be okay. He might not have anywhere to call his own, but he'd be okay.

He had to be.


	15. What a Wonderful World

Gabriel wished he could've offered to help Castiel out. He knew it wasn't his fault that his dad was the way he was. He definitely had the room at his place to help Castiel keep a roof over his head, but he couldn't subject anyone to his dad. He couldn't bare the look he'd get when Castiel would put two and two together after hearing his dad in a drunken rage. Gabriel didn't think he'd survive if his dad's wrath was focused on anyone but him. It was bad enough that his brothers were in the house, but if his dad took a swing at Benny, Balthazar, or Castiel...

It was beside the point. Castiel was living with Balthazar, though Gabriel wasn't entirely convinced their British friend's intentions were entirely honorable. The fact that Gabriel couldn't even consider his place as a safe haven for his friend put him in a rotten mood the next day.

Most of the time, he was able to keep himself in a calm state of numbness. It was easy. He was a piece of shit. Fact. Nothing painful about it. It was just the way of things. On days like this, when he was upset enough to drop his guard, everything was much worse. He wasn't just a piece of shit. He was the piece of shit. The scum of the earth, really. He didn't deserve to shut off his emotions. He deserved every ounce of hatred he could throw at himself. It wasn't just a fact that he could accept and move on from. The knowledge that Gabriel could and probably should die in order to make the world a less burdened place dug into him, because he knew he believed it. He knew he felt it. When he was numb, it was just a simple truth. When he felt something, he knew how much he hated himself. It wasn't just the way of things. It's the way things were in his head towards himself. On days like this, it was all Gabriel could do not to curl up and die no matter how much relief it would bring him.

"Hey," Kali said, snapping her fingers in front of Gabriel's face.

Gabriel jumped slightly and sighed. "Sorry," he said.

"What's going on?" she asked, "Where do you keep going?"

Gabriel sat back in his chair. They were eating lunch in the student center and relaxing between classes. He must've zoned out. Today was not one of his better days.

"Nothing's going on," Gabriel said, "I just spaced out."

Kali huffed and said, "Gabriel, I know you. When you start daydreaming, you make a joke or tell me what you were thinking or at least smile. Something's bothering you, I can tell."

"It's not a big deal," he said.

"If it's bothering you so badly that you didn't notice me offer you some candy," she said, "It's clearly a big deal."

"You were going to give me candy?" Gabriel asked.

Kali sighed in frustration and said, "Gabriel, what is going on?"

"No, but seriously, you were giving me candy?"

"Gabriel."

"I just have some stuff bugging me. I'll be fine," Gabriel said reluctantly.

Kali folded her arms across her chest. "And it's something that you don't feel like sharing?" she pressed.

Gabriel said, "Yeah, it's my shit. I'll deal with it."

"You know you can talk to me," she said.

"Yeah, I know I can," he said, "But it's personal."

"Everything's personal," she said.

Gabriel gave her a confused look.

"You barely tell me anything, Gabriel. Something bothers you? It's none of my business. Something happens, and you just keep me shut out. I'd feel like you were pushing me away, but you never let me in to begin with," Kali snapped, "I'm trying to be here for you. I'm trying to support you with whatever you've had going on. You can see that, can't you?"

"You don't have to be there for me, Kali. I'm fine," Gabriel said.

Kali sighed, staring at Gabriel. "I know you don't believe that, but if you want to lie to me, fine," she said.

Gabriel didn't have anything to say in response that wasn't another lie.

"Maybe this isn't working out," Kali said, "We can be friends if you want, but I can't keep dating you, not like this."

He felt it. He felt it before she said. He knew it was coming for weeks, months even. And honestly, Gabriel deserved it. He deserved to be unloved and unwanted the way he knew he was. He deserved less. If there was any justice, Kali would stab Gabriel in the chest, right in the heart, and watch the life flood from Gabriel's eyes. And just thinking that made Gabriel hate himself all the more.

"Okay," Gabriel said.

"Okay?" Kali asked, incredulous, "Okay? That's all you have to say about this? About us?"

"You haven't loved me in a long time, Kali. Let's not kid ourselves," Gabriel said.

Kali glared at him and said, "I don't love you, because you won't let me. And don't get me started on how we feel about each other. I don't even know if you ever felt anything for me."

The joke was on her; Gabriel tried his best not to feel anything all the time. He remained silent, realizing his words would only do more harm.

Kali stood up and walked around the table so that she towered over Gabriel in his seat. Her red dress clung to her like the fire that filled her words. "I don't know what's going on, and I don't know why you won't let me help, but I'm done trying. I'm sorry," she said.

She kissed him softly, and Gabriel felt nothing but remorse when his lips returned the motion.

Kali looked down at him sadly and said, "Please, Gabriel, even if it's not me, try to let someone in. People love you. You're not alone."

Gabriel grimaced but knew nothing he could say could make her take those words back.

"Have a nice life, sweetheart," she said. Just like that, Kali walked away from the table and out of his life.

On a normal day, Gabriel would accept it and move on.

Today was a bad day.

Instead of going to his last class or to the Roadhouse, Gabriel went home.

It was early enough that his dad was still out, so he felt no pause as he opened his front door. He stood for a moment, glancing down to the lower flat, before walking upstairs. He'd thought about that lower flat a lot. Sometimes, he thought he could move down there just for a refuge from his family, but his dad would never agree to it. Other times, he thought about how the rafters down there were sturdy and would easily help him hang himself. He'd thought about that many times. If he were ever to be that selfish, to leave his brothers undefended, to leave his father unrestrained, that would be how he'd do it. He'd figure out how to make a noose, he'd go down to that lower flat, and if he was lucky, no one would ever know.

Gabriel could never be that selfish. He knew that. That knowledge ached. All he wanted was some peace. Peace from his father, peace from his family, and peace from that evil voice in his head reminding him how horrible and useless and worthless and helpless and awful and stupid and bad and wrong he was.

He dropped his backpack in his room and stepped softly into the bathroom to take a shower. No amount of hot water would ever soothe him, but it never hurt to try.

Gabriel locked the door just in case someone came home early. He slowly pulled his pants and boxers down, throwing them in a heap in the corner. Once his shirt and socks joined them, he tried to avoid his reflection.

He didn't really have a problem with the way he looked. Sometimes his height bothered him, but that wasn't very often. It was just him. If his body belonged to someone else, he'd probably think he was attractive, but his body was tainted with the innate Gabriel-ness that he just couldn't stand.

He didn't feel like that all the time. It was just days like this. He'd pick at anything about himself if it would cause the slightest bit of pain on days like this. He'd look at his reflection and see flab where there should be muscle. He'd see blemishes where there should be smooth skin. He'd look into his reflection's eyes and see more scars than he'd ever have words for. And those unspoken words would choke him. They'd seep from his eyes and hands as he burned and shrieked in the most silent way, begging himself to just end it, to let it finally be over.

So, he dragged his eyes from the mirror and turned the water on faster than was really necessary.

The water warmed quickly and slid over him in a way that relaxed his stressed muscles. If only the warm water could do the same for his wretched mind.

Before he could even try to relax, he heard the front door slam open. He glanced at the still locked bathroom door. His dad was definitely home. The thumping and slamming sounds continued, and Gabriel turned the water pressure up, hoping the steady stream would drown his father out. It worked for the most part, but that still left the sounds of his own self loathing.

Gabriel stood under the water, letting it soak him thoroughly as he tried not to think or feel.

Minutes later, the sound of the creaky front door let Gabriel know his brothers were home. He tried to focus on the feel of the water trailing over his skin. He tried to hear only the rush of the shower, think only about the warmth and the wet.

Then, he heard the shouting. His brothers needed him. There were soft cries, Raphael presumably. There were louder protestations which were probably Michael's.

He wanted to leave, but he couldn't. Not when his brothers were out there. He wanted to stay in the shower and ignore them, but no amount of water in his ears would drown out the fighting.

And no amount of showering would cleanse him of the wrong he did to Kali. He couldn't forget the pain in her eyes. He knew she tried for a long time to get through to him. She just didn't understand. He was a lost cause, too broken to bother fixing. The shouting in the world beyond the bathroom was a testament to that.

Gabriel needed to leave, he needed to stay, he needed to hide, he needed to save his brothers. He needed to do something, focus on something.

Gabriel stepped out of the shower and opened the medicine cabinet above the sink. Under his tube of toothpaste was a small razor. It was supposed to be attached to a box cutter, but it suited Gabriel's purposes just fine without it.

He hopped back in the shower, letting the hot water warm him from being in the cold bathroom air. He turned the razor over in his hand.

"Dad, don't!" Michael shouted.

Gabriel hated that he could hear him clearly over the running water, through the shower door, through the bathroom door, and down a hallway. He hated it. It was a good thing he hated himself just as much, or that hatred would have no release.

At the next shout, Gabriel dug the razor into his shoulder, slicing the skin open. It wasn't deep, just enough to bleed and sting. That was all he needed. It wasn't about scars, none of his cuts were ever bad enough to leave any. It was about pain.

He carved out his pain in his shoulders, slice after slice. He couldn't help Castiel when he needed it. He hurt Kali over and over again by keeping her at arm's length. He couldn't do anything more than pretend to be a friend. He couldn't do anything more than be a shadow of a person. He was nothing more than a broken mask, and as he watched the blood run down his arms and chest, caught in the streams of water, he hated himself more than ever.

His head felt clearer, he felt calmer, more stable. A healthy person wouldn't need to physically cut into their own flesh in order to feel something other than blind self-loathing and emptiness. Nothing could ever make Gabriel hate himself more than how utterly broken he was. He wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough to be anything more than the facsimile he had become.

Gabriel ran water over his shoulders until the water ran clear, applying pressure every so often to help stop the bleeding. Afterwards, he quickly soaped up and showered, toweling off quickly. He took the time to put some gauze over his shoulders. It wasn't for his benefit that he bandaged up. It was so, if his dad shoved him hard, he wouldn't start bleeding through his shirt. He didn't want to his brothers to see. Honestly, if they knew, they probably wouldn't care, but he still worried what would happen if they did.

He taped the gauze down, pulled his clothes back on, pushed his wet hair out of his face, and unlocked the bathroom door.

Quickly, he slapped an impish grin on his face, and walked into the hall, calling out, "Someone start the party without me?"

He took a quick assessment of the situation. His dad had Michael pinned against the wall, and Raphael stood over in the doorway, watching with fear. There was someone with him. Michael's friend. Adam.

Shit.

Gabriel took quick strides into the room and punched his dad hard in the side of the head, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

Michael went over to Adam and Raphael, not giving Gabriel a second glance. Gabriel knelt next to his father and felt for a pulse. Like hell was he going to jail for this bastard. Luckily, his dad was just knocked out and not dead.

Even though it was still the early afternoon, his dad already smelled like beer. Gabriel hoisted his dad up, dragging him across the floor to his bedroom. He could feel the cuts in his shoulders break open and sting like they started bleeding again. He tossed his dad on his bed, without help from his brothers, and placed him in the recovery position just in case his dad was already drunk.

Gabriel wished that Adam hadn't been there to see that. It was bad enough Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel lived it every day. He didn't need to have that kid's horrified and pitying stare etched into his head.

Without any words to the others, Gabriel headed to his room, burning with shame.


	16. No One Like You

Dean sighed as he stepped on the CTA. It had been a long day, and it was going to be an even longer train ride. The train car was completely packed. Dean knew he'd be standing all the way to the Damen stop.

But it was the last day of school for the semester. It was almost Christmas, so Dean wasn't about to let a crowded train ride get under his skin.

Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Dorothy had had the apartment for just under a year. Dean, Charlie, and Dorothy had enrolled at UIC while Sam continued to breeze his way through high school. After the third time Rufus caught him doing homework in the Impala, he didn't have to work except for breaks from school. Somehow, Dean had passed all of his classes, and he was starting to feel like maybe he could really do this. Maybe he could really have a future for himself. Things were going very well. Hell, Dean had even managed to get laid last week.

Now, school was out, Dean was free, and he couldn't wait to get home. He stuck his backpack between his legs on the ground and braced himself for a whole ride with standing room only.

As the doors slid shut, Dean's phone rang. "Sam?" he answered, "What's going on?"

"Luci and I are at the Anti-Cruelty Society-" Sam started.

Dean cut him off, "For the last time, we're not getting a dog."

"Dean, I know you don't like dogs, but-"

"I said it when we first moved in, and I'll say it again," Dean said, "I don't do dogs, but if that were the only thing, you'd have a dog. Dorothy's allergic to dogs. Dorothy lives with us. No dogs, Sam."

"Oh, right," Sam said, "I forgot she has allergies. We're covered in dog hair right now. What do I do?"

Dean sighed as the train lurched to the side. He was honestly shocked he was still getting cell reception. The doors opened at the Clinton stop as Dean said, "When you and Luci get home, go straight to your room, change, and throw your clothes in the washer."

"Okay. Sorry, Dean," Sam said.

The line cut out. Whether he lost the signal on the train or Sam hung up, Dean didn't know.

He pocketed his phone as the train pulled up to LaSalle. He couldn't wait to get to Jackson. Everyone always got off at Jackson, so Dean might get to have some breathing room before getting to his stop. The size of the crowd that forced its was in at LaSalle left little hope for that, though.

Finally, the train doors opened at Jackson. A large exodus of commuters commenced, surging out to the platform. In the chaotic separation of train riders, a woman was shoved roughly into Dean's chest. He quickly helped her right her as she blushed and apologized.

Something about her brown hair struck Dean. "Lisa?" he asked.

She looked up at him, confused. "Wait, Dean?" Lisa replied, shocked.

Dean smiled, and Lisa gasped, "Oh my God, Dean Winchester! How've you been?"

Dean remembered all the times they'd spent together in high school, all the nights he spent at her parents' house, all the times they ate lunch together and talked between classes. He hadn't had a real relationship since Cassie, but Lisa always stood out as his first love. At least, in his head, that's how he remembered her. None of his one night stands could ever stand up to how in love he'd been with Lisa.

So much had happened in the four years since he'd seen her last.

"I've been good," Dean said, "What about you? What've you been up to?"

"Oh, you know, just been around," Lisa said, smiling, "We should catch up sometime."

"Well, what are you doing tonight?" Dean asked.

Lisa's eyes betrayed some hint of worry that told Dean not to get his hopes up. "I'd love to do something, but-" Lisa said.

Dean asked, "Boyfriend?"

Lisa grinned like he'd made a funny joke and said, "No, no boyfriend. It's just, umm..." She sighed and pulled out her phone. She quickly typed something and said, "You know what? I'd love to. You thinking dinner?"

"Dinner, yeah," Dean said, "I'd say I'd pick you up, but I don't exactly have a car." And it would be in the shop for a long time if he couldn't get new engine parts for that beautiful machine.

Lisa handed her phone to Dean and said, "Give me your number and address. I'll call, and we can either meet at your place or a restaurant or whatever. Sound good?"

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He typed his information in and gave Lisa her phone back.

"Great," Lisa said, smiling.

The train slowed to a stop at Division.

Lisa said, "This is me. I'll call you tonight, okay?"

Dean smiled as she stepped off the train. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had an actual date, let alone with Lisa Braeden. It was the perfect start to winter break.

The train left the subway tunnel and opened the doors to the Damen stop. Sunlight swathed the city cement as Dean stepped out into the chilly Chicago air. He couldn't wait for Lisa to call. He only checked his phone ten times between the Damen stop and his apartment. No big deal. There was nothing that could distract him from how excited he was.

Or so he thought.

Coming in the front door to see Sam and Luci, shirtless, pantsless, and making out heatedly on the couch definitely shook some of the delight from Dean's system.

"Sam, what the hell?" Dean snapped.

Sam scrambled off the couch, but Luci just laughed. Luci walked down the hall to Sam's room as if Dean hadn't just walked in on them. Sam stared at his feet, his face red.

"Please, put some pants on," Dean said. Sam went to his room in a hurry.

Dean sighed and fought the urge to drop himself on the couch. With the images now seared into his mind, he wasn't sure when he'd be able to sit on that couch again.

Instead, he wandered to the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He idly thought about if he'd ever have Lisa over, how he'd cook for her, make out with her against the counter, maybe fall in love again. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little jealous of his family. Charlie and Dorothy were always adorable together, and even though Luci was a tad annoying, he made Sam happy. It was hard not to feel lonely around the happy couples.

Dean checked his phone again as Sam, now clothed, sheepishly joined him in the kitchen.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said.

Dean put his phone in his pocket and said, "It's fine. I don't care. Just, please, tell me you didn't have sex on my couch."

"Oh! No, we don't-I mean, we haven't-" Sam sputtered.

"You haven't slept with him?" Dean asked, shocked. Considering the noises he'd heard coming from Sam's room over the last few months, Dean was beyond surprised.

Sam's face went red. He said quietly, "Sex is...uh...complicated."

"Okay, not my business," Dean said, "Glad I don't have to burn the couch. Just keep it in your room, okay? You've got a bed, use that."

Sam smiled and nodded.

Before Sam walked away, Dean said, "You guys are on your own for dinner tonight. That okay? No one's gonna burn down the building?"

"Yeah, we'll live. Where are you going to be?" Sam asked.

"I have a date-"

"A date? With who?"

"Lisa, actually."

Sam stopped and stared at Dean in disbelief. "Lisa? Your Lisa? Like haven't-seen-her-since-Indiana Lisa?" he asked.

"Lisa Braeden. Yes," Dean said.

"She's here? How?" Sam asked.

"It's been four years, Sam," Dean said, "Anything could've happened. We're going out to dinner to catch up."

Just then, Dean's phone rang.

Sam grinned at Dean and went back to join Luci in his room.

Dean answered his phone, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dean. It's Lisa," she said.

"Hey," he said.

"So," she said, "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

Dean said, "There's a pretty good sandwich shop near here if you're interested."

"Sounds good. When do you want to go?"

"Whenever's good for you." Lisa said, "How about I come over in an hour, and we go then?"

"Sure. Just call when you're close, and I'll meet you downstairs," Dean said.

"Okay," Lisa said, "Can't wait. See you then."

When she hung up, Dean felt incredibly nervous. He hadn't been on a date in forever. What if he screwed it up? Before he could over-think things further, Dean quickly hopped in the shower.

An hour passed faster than Dean was prepared for. In no time at all, Lisa was calling, and Dean was pulling on his boots and jacket. Hopefully, Charlie and Dorothy wouldn't come home to catch Sam and Luci the same way he had.

He raced downstairs but stopped just before the door in an attempt to look casual. Slowly, casually, he went outside.

Lisa was just coming up the walk. Dean smiled and Lisa, after seeing him, returned the expression.

"Hi, sorry I'm a little late," Lisa said.

Dean said, "You're definitely not late. Ready to go?"

"Yeah, but, uh," Lisa said, looking at her shoes for a moment, "First, I gotta ask. Is this a date?"

Dean really wanted it to be a date, but he said, "It is if you want it to be."

Lisa smiled brightly and took Dean's hand in hers. "I'd really like it to be a date. I haven't had a date in a long time," she said.

"Then, it's a date," Dean said happily.

They started walking towards the sandwich shop when Dean asked, "So, what've you been doing for the last four years? What's your story now?"

Lisa laughed and said, "How about you go first?"

"Well, now I'm curious."

"And I'll tell you, I just don't want to end the date before it starts. My story's a little complex."

"Now, you have to tell me," Dean said. After seeing the look on her face, though, he said, "But I'll go first if that makes you more comfortable."

Lisa nodded gratefully, and Dean said, "I warn you, my story's pretty boring."

He opened the door to the sandwich shop. They got their food and sat down at a table near the windows.

Lisa looked at Dean expectantly.

"Oh, right, my story," Dean said, "Well, uhh. After Indiana, we bounced around a bit, but Sam and I moved here. And last year, we got an apartment."

"Where were you living before getting the apartment?" Lisa asked.

Dean debated between answering her question or shoving the entirety of his sandwich into his mouth to avoid it. He said carefully, "Nowhere in particular."

Lisa gave Dean a confused look.

He decided to bite the bullet. "We were homeless," he clarified.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Lisa said, clearly embarrassed she'd said anything.

"It's fine," Dean said, "We've got a place. Everything's great. Sam's doing well in school, I got my GED and am actually at UIC right now, and I've even got a job. Things are much better."

"That's good. What do you do for work?" she asked.

Dean said, "I work at Rufus' garage during breaks from school. It's pretty fun."

Lisa smiled and said, "Yeah, you always did like cars."

"As I recall, you were always more of a fan of what we did in cars," Dean said.

Lisa looked up at Dean with a knowing smile.

"So, what've you been up to?" Dean asked.

Lisa sighed and sat back as Dean took a bite of his sandwich. "Well, I'm teaching yoga," she said.

Dean couldn't help but grin like an idiot. Hell yeah, his hot ex-girlfriend was a yoga instructor.

"I also wait tables," she said. She looked at him, biting her lip a little. "Mostly, I spend my time with Ben," she said.

"I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend," Dean said.

Lisa laughed a little and said, "He's not my boyfriend, Dean. He's my son."

Dean paused for a moment. He must've misheard her. Clearly. They were only twenty years old. Lisa couldn't have a...but what else could she have said.

"Wait, what?" Dean tried. It was as articulate as he could manage given the short circuiting his brain was doing.

"I have a son," Lisa said, making a pointed effort to look Dean in the eye, "His name is Ben, he's four years old, and that's mainly what I've been doing since I saw you last."

"So, that's why you didn't want to go out with me at first?" Dean asked.

Lisa said, "Yeah, I had to get my parents to watch him. I don't usually have time for dating or going out."

Dean nodded and looked at his half eaten sandwich. He should run. There was a voice in the back of his head screaming at him to run. She's a mom, damn it. Mom's are off limits. Kids are responsibility. Kids are mess. Kids are trouble. No kids. No moms. This has been the rule since day one.

But Dean stayed.

Lisa must've been sixteen when she had the kid. She probably wasn't in school, almost definitely since she said she had two jobs. She didn't have a boyfriend, so she was probably alone with all of this. It took two to have a kid, and it definitely wasn't fair to Lisa that her first date in a long time was with a commitment-phobic douche bag who had more issues than he'd probably ever say out loud while her asshole baby daddy had absolutely no strings attached and no responsibility for the mess he'd left.

Something very scary clicked in Dean's brain. Something very, uncomfortably scary.

He looked at Lisa as nonchalantly as he could, which probably wasn't saying much, and asked, "So, umm, when's Ben's birthday?"

"May 6th, why?" Lisa asked.

Dean frantically ran numbers in his head. He'd last slept with Lisa in August of that year. It was right before school was going into session. He and Sam were had to skip town soon, because Dean legally speaking was too old for high school, but that certainly didn't stop truancy officers from trying. It was a kind of goodbye sex. It was definitely memorable.

August was definitely nine months away from May.

Oh.

God.

Dean looked up at Lisa, fear visible on his face without question.

Lisa laughed, and Dean, for a moment, was sure he'd have a heart attack.

"Are you-" Lisa tried, still laughing, "Are you worried he's yours?"

Dean tried to laugh like it had been a silly fear, too, but that fear was still sitting in his stomach like a lead weight.

"Well, not worried so much as-" he started.

"Dean," she said, smiling, "He's not yours. You're off the hook. After you left, I might've had some pretty sloppy flings. One of them was a little more sloppy than the others. You're fine."

"So, the guy didn't stick around?" Dean asked.

Lisa shook her head. "I told him about it, obviously, but I made it clear that it was his choice. We were kids. I didn't want to derail someone's life. Plus, he was kind of a jerk. Spend the rest of my life with that? Yeah, no thanks," she said, "He didn't want anything to do with it, and honestly, that was probably for the best."

Dean didn't entirely know what to say to that. It was impressive and certainly shocking that she'd chosen to be a single parent in the middle of high school, but that really couldn't be easy. There were quite literally no words that Dean could use that could follow a story like that.

Lisa sensed the awkward silence as much as Dean did.

"So, I guess I should ask. Is this still a date?" Lisa asked.

Dean should've run. Dean should've apologized that he wasn't a bigger person, and he should've run. She would've understood.

But he didn't. He stayed right where he was.

Maybe he wouldn't have to meet Ben. Maybe if he did meet Ben, he'd like him.

"Yeah, this is still a date," Dean said, "I have no experience with kids, so I'm not sure how much of a help I can be there, but-"

"I'm not asking you to help raise my son, Dean. I'm just asking if you still want to date me," Lisa said.

Dean smiled, leaned across the table, and kissed Lisa. She kissed him back softly, and honestly, it felt amazing.

As Dean pulled back, he said, "Yes, I'd still like to date you."

Lisa beamed at him.

For the rest of the night, they talked about the smaller things. Lisa told him about her jobs and little things about Ben and her parents. Dean told her about living with Charlie and Dorothy and walking in on Sam and Luci.

He wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into with Lisa, but they'd figure it out. Hopefully, he wouldn't fuck this up.

For the moment, though, it was nice just to be wanted.


	17. Look At You

There were two days until Christmas, but that wasn't why Sam paced through the living room like an excited puppy. Charlie and Dorothy sat on the couch, watching him stride back and forth. Luckily, Dean had taken Lisa out on a pre-Christmas date. Otherwise, Sam would've been receiving some serious judgment for worrying a rut in the floor.

When Luci had said he wanted to take Sam on a real date, Sam had been thrilled. They never really went anywhere; they just hung out at each other's homes. There wasn't anything wrong with that, though it did get awkward at Luci's place since his parents were still a bit bitter towards Sam for cutting their beautiful daughter's hair. It was nice to go out for a change.

What had Sam pacing, though, was being left in the dark. Luci wanted to keep the date a surprise and only told Sam when to be ready. And that was five minutes ago. Sam was so full of anxious excitement that he was sure if he stopped pacing, he'd explode in a cloud of nervous energy.

A knock came at the door. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, and Charlie had to stifle a laugh. Sam opened the door.

And there he was. All baggy jeans, black leather jacket, and tousled blond hair, Luci leaned against the doorway with a lopsided grin. If some cheesy 1980s love ballad had started playing, Sam wouldn't have been at all surprised. Sam had to remind himself to breathe.

"Ready to go?" Luci asked.

Sam practically floated out the door. Once the door closed, he could hear Charlie and Dorothy cackling, but he didn't care.

"So, where are we going?" Sam asked.

Luci grinned and said, "I want to show you something. You'll love it, I promise." It didn't remotely answer Sam's question, but he didn't mind. Luci clearly knew where they were going; it was enough just to be with him.

When they got outside, Luci snaked an arm around Sam's waist. Sam leaned into his boyfriend as Luci led him down the street.

As if Sam's curiosity wasn't piqued enough, Luci paid to get them both on the CTA heading out of the city.

When they sat down on the train, Sam asked, "Are we leaving the city?"

Luci smiled. "You'll see," he said. He raised an arm in a motion for Sam to cuddle with him. Sam took the invitation readily, relaxing his head on Luci's chest.

"Can I know what stop we're getting off on?" Sam asked.

Luci just ran his fingers through Sam's hair.

After a half hour on the train, it became apparent that they were going on to the suburbs. At the very least, downtown Chicago was quite far away. They seemed to be headed for O'Hare.

Sam asked, "We're not leaving the state or anything, right?"

Luci chuckled. "No, we're staying in Illinois. Just relax," he said.

Not long after, Luci prompted him to get up at the Jefferson Park stop.

"Where are we going around here?" Sam asked.

Luci draped his arm over Sam's shoulders as they walked away from the train station. "You'll see," he said happily.

Sam sighed. He trusted Luci, and he was happy to play along. He was just so curious.

Sam said, "Y'know, it kind of feels like you're kidnapping me."

"Yes, Sam. I'm stealing you away so I might have my way with you," Luci said, laughing, "Sorry, my intentions are a bit more honorable. See?" He pulled open the door to a Lou Malnati's.

"Pizza?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Luci said, "Dinner first, then rest of the date."

Sam tried desperately not to read into what Luci had said about having his way with him as he tried to imagine what the hell the date could entail. He knew it wasn't sex. He knew they didn't do that. But sometimes he couldn't help but dream. Knowing what the plan was would really help stop his fantasizing.

They were seated quickly.

Right away, Luci said to their server, "We'd like a deep dish pizza, half sausage and half spinach and black olive."

The server jotted it down and went to put the order in.

"I'm assuming the spinach and olives is for me," Sam said.

"Yeah, I figured you'd like something stupid like that," Luci said, "That's okay, right? I probably should've asked you, but I want to save time."

"It's fine," Sam said. He was a little bewildered that he hadn't ordered for himself, but it was sort of flattering that Luci knew him well enough to take charge like that.

"Are we on a time crunch?" Sam asked.

Luci shook his head. "No, not really," he said, "But there is a certain timing I'm aiming for. If I get it right, you'll see what I mean."

Sam tried not to let that bother him. He was spending time with his boyfriend. He could let Luci have control. So, he forced himself to let it go. He was having a good time after all. Why ruin it by micromanaging a date he had had no hand in planning? The was Luci's thing. Might as well enjoy the ride.

They ate quickly, enjoying each other's company, eating pizza with one hand, holding hands over the table with the other.

Luci looked at his watch and said, "Almost time. You ready?"

Sam nodded and stood up, grabbing his coat. Luci paid while Sam went outside.

The sun was setting, almost at the horizon line, splashing the sky with purple, pink, and golden, almost amber, hues. It was so captivating, Sam jumped when Luci slid his arms around Sam's waist from behind.

"Well, if you like that," Luci whispered in Sam's ear, indicating the sky, "You're going to love this."

The sun sank out of sight, darkening the sky, and Luci turned Sam to look down the sidewalk they were on.

All at once, the trees lining the street lit up with Christmas lights, causing the snow around them to glow.

"Oh my God," Sam breathed.

It was beautiful. Breathtaking even. He knew the ethereal scene was set by strands of LED lights, but it still had the soft, dreamy feel of Heaven.

"Walk with me?" Luci asked.

Sam nodded, taking Luci's warm hand in his. It was bitter cold, the wind numbing his face, but walking through this beautiful street with his boyfriend made it worth it. God, it was perfect.

"I knew you'd like this," Luci said.

Sam smiled. He couldn't help but look all around and try to drink in the magical beauty of their surroundings. His boyfriend knew him well.

"This is really amazing," Sam said.

Luci smiled at him softly. "You know, Sam. I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, "I guess that's kind of why I wanted to do this. You're perfect, and I know I don't always tell you that or show it enough. But you're amazing, Sam." He gestured to the lights as snow began to lightly fall. "This reminds me of you. It's beautiful all the time, but if you catch it at the right moment, everything just lights up. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Sam."

Sam didn't know what to say. Luci knew how he felt about him. Luci might've been Sam's first real relationship, but he was it. He was amazing and strong and always there. They hadn't even been together a full year, and Sam could already imagine them together, married, getting a place somewhere. Hell, if Luci didn't surgically transition, getting married could still be legal. Luci was everything to Sam, and he knew it, he had to.

At the end of the street, they stopped. Luci looked angelic with multicolored glows dancing across his face. Sam could barely feel his hands, but he ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, pulling him into a kiss.

It was the perfect setting, kissing his boyfriend in the crisp snow surrounded by soft, glowing lights. The kiss fell a bit short; Sam couldn't feel his face much less his lips. But everything else was perfect.

"I love you," Sam said softly.

Luci smiled and asked, "Love me enough to get out of the cold for a bit?" He motioned to the Starbucks behind him.

"God, yes," Sam said.

The warmth seeped into Sam's bones almost the instant they stepped through the door. Luci pulled Sam by the hand to the counter.

"Two hot chocolates," Luci said to the cashier.

Sam absently wondered if Luci had considered the possibility that Sam didn't want hot chocolate, but he did want the hot beverage, so it was kind of beside the point.

Luci picked up their hot chocolates off the counter and handed one to Sam.

"Are you having a good time?" Luci asked.

Sam looked at his boyfriend, confused. "We're out together," Sam said, "Of course, I'm having a good time."

"Are you sure? I mean, if you're not enjoying yourself, we can do something else," Luci said.

"No, this is great," Sam said, "Is there anything else you had planned?"

"Well, there is one thing...how about one last thing, then we go back to your place?"

"Sure," Sam said.

They got back on the train and headed back into the city.

Luci led him off the train at whatever stop he had in mind, and Sam wasn't bothered a bit with not knowing where they were off to now. After the Christmas lights, Sam was sure where ever they were going would be wonderful.

Once they reached Daley Plaza, Sam knew he wasn't wrong. They stared up at the fully lit eight foot Christmas tree erected in the plaza.

"The tree?" Sam asked.

Luci nodded. "I know the tree lighting was back in November," he said, "But it's still a great tree, and I know how much you love it."

Well, he wasn't wrong. The legions of lights and golden baubles adorning the tree made it shine like a beacon in the middle of the city.

Sam shivered a little. Honestly, he'd been much colder in his life, and he was wearing a jacket, but it was still winter in Chicago. The wind alone was slicing. Couple that with the arctic temperatures and the wind carrying freezing spray from Lake Michigan, and yeah, Sam was shivering.

Luci noticed and pulled Sam into a hug. He put Sam's arms inside his leather jacket. Luci was having a bit of a leather phase, and Sam knew he was trying out different forms of masculinity, black leather being one of them. He'd never been more glad to have a boyfriend with a craving for leather. The jacket was so warm, Sam almost moaned. Almost.

It was things like this he loved the most, the little things. He wanted to tell Luci how much he loved him, how much he meant to him, but the words wouldn't come. He wanted to show him.

"You want to go back to my place?" Sam asked.

Luci kissed Sam and, pulling back, fixed him with a hungry stare. "As long as you're thinking what I'm thinking."

Fifteen minutes and a bus ride later, Sam and Luci were pressed tightly against each other, heatedly kissing in the hallway just outside of Sam's room. Charlie and Dorothy weren't anywhere that Sam could notice. Dean hadn't come home yet. Sam started undressing Luci right there in the hallway, dropping Luci's leather jacket to the floor.

Luci pushed them into Sam's room, lightly biting at Sam's lower neck.

Sam backed himself up to the bed, pulling Luci down on top of him. He'd learned quickly that Luci liked being on top. Honestly, Sam was really okay with this.

Luci slipped his hands under Sam's shirt, pulling it over Sam's head between kisses. Sam tossed Luci's shirt across the room and began fumbling for Luci's belt. Luci unzipped Sam's pants with one hand while palming him through his jeans with the other. Sam sucked a hickey into Luci's neck while helping his boyfriend out of his pants entirely.

Once they were both down to nothing but boxers, Sam experimentally slipped a finger in Luci's waistband. Luci pulled Sam's hand away, trying to quickly resume the hot make out session without drawing attention to his discomfort.

Sam laid Luci on his back, knowing full well that the way he wanted to love Luci would not be easily done from beneath his boyfriend. Sam kissed down Luci's neck and chest.

When they'd first started dating, it had taken an act of God to get Luci's shirt off. He hated his chest. However, what small breasts he'd had were mostly concealed by muscle from working out. After Sam said as much, getting Luci undressed was much easier. The boxers were the only barrier now, and if Luci's reaction was anything to go by, the boxers would continue to be a barrier.

Sam trailed kisses down Luci's torso. When he reached the edge of the boxers, he stopped and looked up at Luci.

"I love you," Sam said, "All of you, even if you don't."

"Sam-" Luci started.

"I'm not pressing for anything," Sam said, "You're uncomfortable with going any further, and I respect that. I just need you to know how perfect you are to me."

Luci met Sam with a meaningful gaze.

Sam slid down between Luci's legs and, keeping the boxers exactly where they were, kissed the inside of Luci's thigh lightly.

Luci gasped a little.

That was all the prompting Sam needed. He quickly sucked on the sensitive skin there, leaving a dark hickey and earning plenty of moans from his boyfriend.

Sam crawled back up and met Luci's lips full, hard, and fast. Luci kissed back harder, biting down lightly on Sam's lower lip. Sam moaned and flipped Luci back on top where he knew his boyfriend wanted to be. Luci's tongue invaded Sam's mouth sweetly as Sam's fingers dragged down Luci's back. Luci dug his nails into Sam's shoulders as his rolled his hips against Sam's pelvis.

As if Sam wasn't turned on enough already.

Sam's breath hitched, and Luci did it again, putting sweet pressure and friction against Sam's far too excited dick.

They continued fooling around like that until Sam came in his boxers like the horny teenager he was.

After everything was cleaned up, and Luci finished getting dressed to go home, Luci looked at Sam and said, "Looks like I marked you up good."

Sam wasn't quite sure what he was referring to, but Luci had to get home on time, so he didn't ask. He walked Luci to the door and kissed him softly to avoid getting carried away again.

"I love you," Sam said.

Luci kissed him back before saying, "I love you, too, Sam. Forever."

Sam grinned like an idiot as his boyfriend walked out the door.

Later, after Dean came home, after Charlie and Dorothy had crashed in their room, while Sam was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth before bed, he noticed what Luci had been talking about. Along Sam's shoulders were red marks. He knew they were from Luci's nails, but he also knew marks like that would bruise.

Knowing what they'd been doing to cause it, Sam was sort of proud to have battle scars from an insanely fun make out session. He just hoped none of his family would see.


	18. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Surprisingly, everyone was home on Christmas day. When Charlie woke up smelling bacon, she knew Dean must be cooking. Dorothy was already up. All Charlie wanted to do was go back to bed.

But it was Christmas.

Charlie could drag her ass out of bed for Christmas.

She meandered down the hall sleepily and was instantly handed a plate with waffles, bacon, and eggs on it.

"Good morning," Dorothy said, planting a kiss on Charlie's cheek.

Charlie put the plate down on the table and kissed Dorothy back on the lips. Dorothy deepened the kiss and, oh yes, Charlie was definitely awake now.

"Not while we're eating, guys, c'mon," Dean complained.

Charlie flipped him off and kissed Dorothy back one more time.

"It's Christmas," Sam said, "Let 'em do what they want."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam as Charlie and Dorothy took their seats at the table.

Charlie struggled to contain her excitement. She had a huge announcement to make but she wanted everyone in the same room for a prolonged period of time. She wanted to tell her whole family at once.

"So, you seeing Lisa today?" Charlie asked.

Dean shook his head and said around a bite of waffle, "Nah, she's spending Christmas with her kid."

Sam gaped at Dean. "Her what?!" he gasped.

"She has a son," Dean said, "His name's Ben. She doesn't want me to meet him yet."

Charlie chuckled at Sam's shock. She'd reacted much the same way when Dean had told her and Dorothy. Dean was willingly dating a mom. With how fast the guy normally went through women, shock was the first and strongest reaction.

At Charlie's laugh, Sam snapped his gaze to her. "You knew about this?" he asked.

Charlie nodded and said, "Yeah, he told us on the way to school."

"Why am I always the last to know anything?!" Sam said.

Dorothy patted his shoulder as Dean laughed. "I wasn't keeping it from you, dude. It just didn't come up," he said.

At Sam's bitchface, Charlie decided to change the subject and asked, "What about you, Sam? Seeing Luci?"

Sam shook his head. "He's stuck with his family for the day," he said.

"So, we're having our first Christmas together?" Charlie asked happily.

Dean glanced at Sam, and Sam said, "Yeah, I guess so."

"You don't sound too excited," Charlie said.

Sam leaned over and whispered something to Dean. Sam got up and left the table.

Dean said, "You see, the thing is...It's kind of boring staying home. We don't have a whole lot to do here. Sure, we've got the TV now, but we don't even have a Christmas tree on Christmas."

Charlie opened her mouth to protest. They had a tree. She and Dorothy had taped two wire hangers together and wrapped it with scrap garland and a cheap strand of Christmas lights. It was a very tiny tree, but it was still a tree.

Before she could say anything, though, Sam came back and said, "Well, I guess we could do something with this." He held out a shopping bag to Charlie.

"What are you-" Charlie started.

"Just open it," Dorothy said.

Charlie looked in the bag and saw an Xbox 360 staring back at her. She looked up at Sam, then Dean and Dorothy.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Merry Christmas, Charlie," Dean said.

Dorothy explained, "It's from all of us."

"I can't accept this, I didn't get you guys gifts," Charlie said. Well, that was mostly true, anyway.

"Charlie, it's a gift. We weren't expecting anything in return," Dean said.

Charlie looked at the Xbox again. It was too much. She stood up and hugged Sam. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, thank you," she said, hugging Dorothy. She hugged Dean and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

She stopped and looked at them all. "It has to be for all of us," she said, "I couldn't get gifts for you guys, so this has to be it. This has to be all of ours."

"Whatever you say, Charlie," Dean said, "but before we discuss semantics, I think you should look over by the TV."

Charlie eyed Dean. "You better not have spent any more money on me, Winchester," she said.

She walked over to the TV and saw a small orange box propped against the TV tray. It looked like a DVD, but upon closer inspection, it definitely wasn't.

"The Orange Box?" Charlie gasped, "Like Team Fortress 2, Half-Life 2, and Portal? That Orange Box?! You got me the Orange Box!?"

Sam and Dorothy shot confused glances at Dean.

"Well, what use is an Xbox 360 without any games for it?" Dean explained.

Charlie grinned excitedly at the games in her hands. She hopped up and down happily. Oh, yes. This was how they'd spend Christmas. Yes.

They sank back into their breakfast, finishing quickly. Charlie couldn't wait to sink her teeth into those games.

The second she finished, she set about hooking up the Xbox 360 to the TV.

Sam helped grab some cables for her when Dorothy said, "Hey, guys."

Dean, Sam, and Charlie focused their attention on Dorothy. She said, "I just wanted to say thank you. At the beginning of the year, I assumed I'd be spending the holidays alone. And I just-I just wanted to thank you for being my family."

Sam stood up and hugged Dorothy. "It wouldn't be the same without you," he said.

"So, we're doing feelings? Okay," Dean said, "The last time Sam and I celebrated Christmas, our dad had ditched us at some dirty motel to go work a case. I cooked some Mac n Cheese for Sam, and we watched some sappy TV movie. It was kinda nice, but this, this is much better. We're with people we love, we have a real home for once, and I can't imagine a better way to spend Christmas."

Dorothy smiled at Dean while Sam stared at him in shock.

Clearing his throat, Dean said, "Now, let's get the Xbox sorted out so I can kick all of your asses is Team Fortress 2."

Charlie hooked up the last cord and said, "You guys run through the set up, I have to do something."

She really needed to tell them something. As she hurried down the hall to her room, she knew exactly how she was going to do it. She grabbed a small box from under her dresser and thanked her lucky stars that Dorothy hadn't found it.

Rushing back out to the living room, Charlie said, "Okay, two things."

"One," she said, handing the box to Dorothy, "I did go Christmas shopping. I just didn't have the money for gifts for the boys. Sorry, guys."

Dean waved her off to let her know it was fine.

Dorothy opened the box and gasped, "Oh my God."

Charlie grinned. She'd gotten her girlfriend a necklace, but it wasn't just a necklace.

"Is this the necklace that Arwen gave Aragorn?" Dorothy asked.

"The Evenstar, yeah," Charlie said.

"Holy shit," Dorothy said, "How'd you have money for this?"

Charlie grinned widely and faced her whole family. "That's the second thing," she said, "I got a job."

"That's awesome!" Dean said.

Sam asked, "When'd that happen?"

Dorothy beamed at Charlie.

"Last week, the comic book shop I usually go to had a 'Now Hiring' sign in the window. I got the job on the spot, and after I proved him oh so wrong about Captain America, he gave me an advance so I could go Christmas shopping. I start on Monday," Charlie said.

"That's so great!" Sam said.

Dorothy put on the necklace and squeezed Charlie's hand.

Dean held out a Xbox controller to Charlie. "Care to celebrate?" he asked.

Three hours later, several couch cushions had been thrown, Dean and Charlie had matching rug burns from when a wresting match had broken out, Sam was laughing uncontrollably, Dorothy was trying for the thirtieth time to beat this damn level of Portal, and Charlie was making hot chocolate, laughing.

"Damn it!" Dorothy shouted, "I know there's a way to do this. There has to be a way to do this fucking level!"

Charlie brought over four mugs of hot chocolate. She handed one to Dorothy and said, "Hot chocolate helps."

Dorothy took the mug and paused the game. "Yeah, I should take a break anyway," she said.

Charlie sat next to Dorothy. Dorothy slid her hand slowly up Charlie's thigh.

Charlie met her girlfriend's gaze, and Dean cleared his throat. "Sam and I are going for a walk," he said.

"We are?" Sam asked.

"The girls want an empty apartment, let's go."

"But they didn't say-"

"Sam, I'm not spelling this out."

Charlie smiled innocently at Sam and Dean. Dean gave Charlie a look that said to cut the crap. With the way Dorothy's hand was travelling along Charlie's thigh, and empty apartment wouldn't be a bad thing.

Dean pulled on his jacket and said, "We'll be back in a half hour."

When the boys left, Charlie kissed Dorothy deeply. Dorothy ran her hands along Charlie's sides, pulling Charlie underneath her and covering her face and neck in kisses.

"I love the necklace," Dorothy said between kisses. Charlie wrapped her fingers in Dorothy's brown hair, kissing her deeper, harder.

Dorothy pulled back slowly and asked, "Do you want to celebrate properly?"

"What would that entail?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy gave her an impish grin, and Charlie grinned with glee.

"Yes, yes, I'd like that," Charlie replied.

They quickly ran to their room.

Dorothy pressed her lips to Charlie's as Charlie slid Dorothy's shirt up her thin frame. Charlie led Dorothy to their bed and quickly removed her shirt, flinging it across the room. Dorothy's hands moved up Charlie's back, snapping off her bra expertly.

Charlie straddled Dorothy and leaned down to press kisses to Dorothy's neck and chest and breasts. She pushed her hands under Dorothy to undo her bra as Dorothy pulled her into a deep kiss. Charlie wanted to let her hands roam, but she struggled with her bra clasp.

She broke the kiss and sighed, "How are you so good at this?"

Dorothy sat up and batted Charlie's hands away, undoing her own bra. "You wear a bra, too. How are you so bad at this?" she asked, grinning.

Charlie rolled her eyes, smiling, and said, "Shut up." She kissed Dorothy full and hard before sliding down to Dorothy's pants.

Dorothy said, "Hey, we're celebrating your job. I should be getting into your pants, not the other way around."

"Well, if you don't want me to go down on you, I can always-"

Dorothy unzipped her jeans and pushed them off.

Charlie smirked, hooked her fingers into her panties, and slipped them down her long legs. Charlie kissed down Dorothy's hip bone and inner thigh, making Dorothy gasp lightly.

"You're amazing," Charlie breathed, rubbing her thumb gently over Dorothy's clit. Dorothy moaned at the touch.

Charlie ducked her head and traced a circle around her girlfriend's entrance with her tongue. This earned her several pleasurable noises that made Charlie happy to continue. She closed her lips around Dorothy's sensitive nub and sucked lightly.

Dorothy's legs tensed and her breathing grew labored. "God, Charlie," she breathed.

Charlie released the clit and dove into the wetness of Dorothy's vagina. She licked a line, pressing against her girlfriend's inner walls, from back to front, trailing up to gently suck the clit once more. Dorothy's back arched as the sensation hit her. The noises she made did nothing if not encourage Charlie. She lazily licked around Dorothy's clit while she inserted a single finger. The sound that escaped Dorothy's lips had Charlie immediately slide in another finger, twisting them inside her.

With one last long suck on the clit, Charlie let her hand take care of the rest. Adding a third finger, Charlie sped up her movements, planting kisses across Dorothy's hips and stomach, until she had her girlfriend screaming.

Charlie slowed down, retracting all but one finger. She moved to lay next to her girlfriend as she slowly, gently massaged Dorothy's vagina both in and around the entrance.

"Fuck," Dorothy said in a blissed out groan.

"Merry Christmas," Charlie said.

Dorothy nudged Charlie's hand away from her crotch and rolled Charlie onto her back with a smile. "I love you," she said.

"I know," Charlie replied quickly.

Dorothy had told her she loved her a few times, though Charlie hadn't really ever returned the sentiment. Because of those words now, though, Charlie knew she was in for a wild ride.

Dorothy sat back between Charlie's legs and unzipped her jeans with her teeth. Honestly, that was just hot.

Charlie's pants and underwear were discarded immediately.

Dorothy ran her hands down Charlie's bare thighs, massaging the muscle beneath her fingers. She pressed a finger into Charlie's vagina. Charlie couldn't help but grab a fistful of sheets.

The front door opened, and Dean called out, "We're back, put your clothes on!"

Charlie and Dorothy froze, making eye contact. There was no way it had been a half hour. No way in hell.

Dorothy removed her finger and said, "We'll pick this up later."

Charlie tossed her head back against the pillow. She was going to murder Dean Winchester. The only question was if she'd let it be a quick death or make him suffer first.

Dorothy got dressed as Charlie tried to locate her clothing.

When they were dressed and actually emerged from their room, Charlie snapped, "Ten minutes is not a half hour, Winchester."

Dean laughed and said, "I'll have you know we were out of your hair for fifteen minutes. We only came back early, because we got pizza."

Charlie looked past him to two pizza boxes in the kitchen that she could smell from across the room. It seemed that Dean had earned himself a stay of execution...for now.

"Okay, I don't hate you anymore," Charlie said, opening a box and grabbing a slice. Sam laughed and turned on the TV.

They spent the rest of the day eating pizza, playing games, and watching Doctor Who. Despite the cock block, it was the best Christmas Charlie'd ever had.


	19. Ridin' the Storm Out

Castiel woke up on Benny's couch and stared at the ceiling. It was Christmas, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Balthazar and Garth had gone home for the holidays, so Castiel was staying at Benny's over winter break. It wasn't a bad arrangement, and Benny was a cool guy, but the holidays were supposed to be spent with family and loved ones. And that kept making him think about his dad.

It'd been almost a year, and he'd heard nothing. He didn't think about him as much as he used to, but it was Christmas. If he could still talk to his dad, he'd call him or something. It was the first Christmas that Castiel didn't have a family. And it hurt. A lot.

Benny came out of his room, clad only in boxers and yawning. "Mornin'," he muttered.

"Good morning," Castiel sighed.

Benny opened the refrigerator and asked, "You eat yet?"

"Not yet," Castiel replied.

"Want a Hot Pocket?" Benny asked, looking over where Castiel was curled up on the couch.

"I'm not hungry," Castiel said, turning to stare at the carpet, "Thank you, though."

"Well, make sure you eat something today," Benny said, "Balthazar told me how you stop eating when you're in a bad mood, and I ain't about to let you starve on Christmas."

Castiel sighed and sat up. Of course they were concerned with his food intake. He had lost some weight since he had to ditch his apartment. It was nice that they cared, but he was in no mood to be babied.

"A Hot Pocket sounds great," Castiel said.

Benny smiled and popped two of them in the microwave. Luckily, Benny's Hot Pockets were all four cheese pizza flavored. Castiel wasn't much for eating meat, and given how shitty he was feeling today, he wouldn't be able to stomach it otherwise.

As the food warmed, Benny asked Castiel, "You got any plans today?"

"Not really," Castiel said, "I don't have anywhere to be. Why?"

"Well, my family is coming over today, but-see, they've got this thing about holidays. They like to keep it just family, and-"

"And you need me to be somewhere else," Castiel finished. Of course. He didn't even have a place to be on Christmas. He didn't really belong anywhere anyway.

Benny looked at Castiel apologetically.

The microwave dinged.

Castiel pulled out his phone as Benny pulled out their breakfast. Balthazar was gone, Garth was gone, and Benny couldn't let him stay. Chances were, Gabriel wouldn't want him either. Castiel would be in the way no matter where he went. He almost didn't call Gabriel. At least walking the streets of the city wouldn't make him such a burden on everyone.

Still, he called his friend. It might've been selfish, but he really didn't want to be alone.

Benny handed Castiel his Hot Pocket as Gabriel said, "Hey, Castiel. What's up?"

"Can I come over?" Castiel asked, accepting his breakfast with a soft smile to Benny.

"Why? What's going on?" Gabriel asked.

"Benny has family coming over," Castiel said, "And I kind of can't be here."

Benny gave Castiel a regretting glance.

Gabriel groaned and said, "Jeez, Castiel, I dunno..."

There was a loud bang on the other end of the line and some shouting.

Another loud bang and Gabriel said, "Uhh...you know what? Yeah. You can come over. Just, uh, do you know where I live?"

"Yes, I've walked you home several times, Gabriel," Castiel said.

"Right, right," Gabriel said, "Well, uh, I'll meet you at Benny's anyway. Just, umm, sit tight."

Castiel really didn't want to put his friend out, and something weird was going on. "It's only a two block walk. I can just-"

"Just stay there, okay? I'll head over now." Gabriel hung up, and Castiel stared at his phone.

His friend sounded almost on the verge of begging. Something was definitely going on with Gabriel.

"I'll be at Gabriel's," Castiel said.

If Gabriel was on his way now, Castiel really needed to get ready. He reached for his bag to pull on pants.

Benny said, "I'm really sorry about all this."

"It's okay, I understand," Castiel said, "Something is weird about Gabriel today anyway."

"When isn't there something weird about that kid?" Benny replied.

While he did have a point, something seemed more off than usual about their friend.

Just as Castiel finished his Hot Pocket, a knock came at the door.

Benny went to answer it while Castiel threw out his garbage and pulled on his trench coat.

"Hey, Benny," Gabriel said with a warm smile, "Merry Christmas."

Benny nodded and said to Castiel, "Yep, you're right. Something's weird."

Gabriel stuck his tongue out at Benny. "You ready to go?" he asked Castiel. They left quickly.

Once outside, Castiel asked, "What's going on?" His friend was posturing much more than usual.

"Nothing. Nothing's going on," Gabriel said.

"Okay, you're not even trying to lie," Castiel said, "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel said, walking faster down the street.

Castiel kept up with him easily. "Gabriel," he said sharply.

Gabriel ignored him and said, "C'mon. We're almost there." He jogged ahead and held the door open for Castiel.

"It's up the stairs," Gabriel said.

Castiel slowly walked upstairs as Gabriel locked the front door.

Gabriel rushed ahead of Castiel, and before opening the door, he said, "I apologize about my brothers in advance."

Castiel glanced at Gabriel as he opened the door.

A guy about their age flipped through a book in the kitchen. "Who's this?" the guy asked.

Gabriel said, "Michael, this is Castiel. Castiel, Michael."

"You never bring friends over," Michael commented as he gave Castiel a once over, "Is there something special about this one?" Castiel felt blood rush to his face. Michael's gaze was uncomfortably piercing.

"What? You're allowed to have friends over, and I'm not?" Gabriel asked.

"Adam is different," Michael said simply.

Gabriel sighed and said, "Why are you being such a dick?"

"I don't know if it's wise to have him here," Michael said softly, "Dad won't be happy."

"If I'm in the way, I can go somewhere else," Castiel said. That was a bit of a lie, only true in the sense that the city streets were technically somewhere else. Still, he didn't want to burden his friend. He'd leave if he had to. He'd figure it out.

"You're not in the way," Gabriel said, "And I'm not about to leave you on your own on Christmas just because my brother's being a dickwad."

"I'm just trying to think of your friend's well being," Michael explained.

"Well, that's enough of that. Come with me," Gabriel said to Castiel. He led him down a hall past the kitchen and nudged open a door to this right.

Gabriel plopped down on a bed that Castiel assumed to be Gabriel's. He sighed, "I'm sorry about my brother. He's usually not so bad."

Castiel sat on the chair seated at Gabriel's desk. "What did he mean about my well being?" he asked.

Gabriel sat up with a forced smile and said, "He was just messing with you. He's weird. Don't worry about it."

Castiel knew that wasn't the case. He could see how hard Gabriel was trying, he saw how broken that facade was.

"Gabriel, I need you to talk to me," Castiel said, "I've told you many times that you don't need to pretend with me. What's going on?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and laughed. "You don't know what you're talking about, Castiel," Gabriel said with a sing-song lilt.

"Then, tell me," Castiel pressed.

Gabriel smiled and said, "I'd rather not. Sorry."

"How about this," Castiel said, "You don't tell me what's going on. Just tell me if I'm in any trouble by being in your house."

Gabriel visibly sobered, and Castiel knew Michael had been telling the truth. Something was very wrong.

"I shouldn't be here, got it," Castiel said.

Before he could get up, Gabriel said, "You can be here. Nothing will happen to you if you stay, I promise."

Castiel made no move to leave. "So, it's something about your house," he said slowly, "And going from what Michael said, it's something to do with your dad."

"Castiel, don't," Gabriel snapped. There was enough pain in Gabriel's eyes and enough cracked emotion in Gabriel's voice, Castiel knew not to continue. He wanted to help, but now was clearly not the time.

"Would you like a distraction?" Castiel asked.

"Please," Gabriel said, laying back and staring at the ceiling.

"I feel like I'm in the way," Castiel said.

It wasn't exactly a good distraction, but he'd learned that nothing focused Gabriel more than hearing about someone else's problems. Gabriel loved nothing more than helping others even if he'd never allow anyone to do the same for him. And really, Castiel needed to tell someone about how he'd been feeling or he was going to explode if not disappear altogether.

"You're not in the way," Gabriel said quickly.

"No," Castiel said, "I feel like I'm in the way all the time."

Gabriel sat up and looked at Castiel, concerned.

"When I'm at Benny's, I sleep on the couch. When I'm with Balthazar and Garth, I take the floor. I have no space. Even when I'm at school or in the city, I'm constantly walking in someone's way or being in the way just by occupying space. There's no room for me anywhere," Castiel said, "I can't talk to the others about it, because they're always busy or off doing something. I feel bad even talking to you about it, because I know you have your own stuff going on. But I have to take up space. It's not like I don't exist. It's just-it feels like I don't belong anywhere, like I'm inconveniencing everyone by just being here."

"Shit, Castiel. How long have you felt like this?" Gabriel asked.

"Ever since my dad stopped talking to me," Castiel said, "But kind of forever. I've always been the one that falls through the crack and get forgotten. I don't talk to people much because of it. Most people won't remember me anyway. I can't tell you how surprising it was when you can up and talked to me in the archives."

"That's weird. You don't strike me as the kind of person you forget, but I know what you mean. That's usually how I feel around here," Gabriel said.

"How come?" Castiel asked.

Gabriel said, "I'm not talking about it, Castiel. Give it up."

Castiel said, "Give up on you? Never."

For the first time since Castiel knew him, Gabriel smiled a real, genuine smile, and Castiel knew his friend wasn't beyond help.

Gabriel said, "Y'know what? It's Christmas. We've got nothing else going on. Let's make Christmas brunch. You eat yet?"

"Just a Hot Pocket."

"Yeah, that's a meal. C'mon, let's go make a bunch of food and turn this into a real Christmas."

Castiel followed Gabriel out to the kitchen.

Michael looked up as Gabriel opened the refrigerator.

"We're making food," Gabriel said to his brother, "If you don't piss me off, you can have some."

"What are you making?" Michael asked.

Gabriel looked at Castiel with eyebrows raised.

"What?" Castiel asked.

"What are we making? It's your choice."

"It's your kitchen."

"No, right now, it's your kitchen."

Castiel knew what Gabriel was doing, trying to give him his own space. It was nice, but this wasn't his house, it wasn't his place. "Gabriel, I don't-" he started.

Gabriel turned Castiel to look into the refrigerator. "This is the food we have. We can make whatever you want," he said.

Castiel looked at the food and said, "Well, I like eggs."

"Okay, we can make eggs. Anything else?"

"If you have flour and a waffle iron, we can make waffles."

"We've got those, anything else strike your fancy?"

Castiel turned and shrugged. Eggs and waffles seemed like a substantial breakfast to him.

Gabriel sighed and said, "Bacon, Castiel, we have bacon."

"I don't really like bacon," Castiel said.

Gabriel and Michael both looked at him as if he'd just spoken in tongues.

"You-you what? You don't like what? I'm sorry, I must've misheard you. I could've sworn you said that you don't like bacon," Gabriel said.

Castiel replied, "That's because I don't like bacon. Or meat, really."

Gabriel's jaw dropped. "Okay," he said, "I can respect vegetarians. But I gotta know. No meat because of moral reasons or no meat because you don't like the taste?"

"It used to be moral reasons, but really, I just don't really like the taste. It all tastes the same," Castiel said.

Michael and Gabriel gaped at Castiel.

"Are you making bacon?" Michael asked Gabriel.

Gabriel said, "I was going to before, but now it's freaking required. All meat tastes the same? Are you hearing this?" Gabriel shook his head at Castiel in mock disbelief and grabbed the bacon package out of the refrigerator.

Gabriel turned to Michael and said, "We're making waffles, eggs, and bacon. Are you going to be on your best behavior, or are we keeping all this food for ourselves?"

Michael gave an angelic, innocent smile. "I promise not to annoy you in any way, shape, or form. Swear on my life," he said.

Gabriel said, "Glad to hear it." He turned to Castiel and said, "Dude, you're trying bacon today. Prepare your taste buds for a religious experience."

Castiel rolled his eyes.

An hour and a half later, Michael and Gabriel grinned as Castiel finished his third piece of bacon. It was delicious. It was more than delicious. How could he have gone his whole life without trying this amazing food? More than that, cooking with Gabriel had definitely helped his mood. They didn't make much of a mess, but Castiel was able to be helpful and feel sort of at home. It was nice, really nice.

"Now that I've proven you wrong about bacon," Gabriel said, "We're going to have to get you to try some burgers."

"One thing at a time," Castiel said, smiling.

A small boy who looked like he was probably in high school if not junior high shuffled out of a room behind them and looked at the food hungrily.

"Raphael, this is Castiel," Gabriel said.

Raphael didn't spare even a glance for Castiel. He looked at Gabriel and asked, "Can I have some of the food?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Just remember to bring the dishes out when you're done," Gabriel said.

Raphael's eyes crinkled in a way that almost resembled happiness, like he was smiling but his mouth hadn't gotten the message. He grabbed a plate and piled scrambled eggs on it.

Castiel watched the boy retreat to his room, taking as much food as he could fit on his plate with him.

"He keeps to himself mostly," Gabriel said to Castiel, "I'm surprised you met him at all."

A loud pounding broke the calm in the kitchen.

"Shit," Gabriel said, getting up quickly.

"Which one of you bastards locked the fucking doors?" a voice shouted angrily from in the stairwell.

"Castiel, come on," Gabriel said, motioning to follow him. He was scared, Castiel could tell. Whatever was about to happen was very bad.

Castiel stood up and went with Gabriel.

Michael stared at the door, wide eyed. He followed Castiel and Gabriel down the hall.

"How'd he get in the front door?" Gabriel asked.

Michael said, "He took his keys."

"Fuck, we need to get out of here," Gabriel said to Castiel. To Michael, he asked, "Will you guys be okay?"

The door to the flat burst open.

"We'll be fine," Michael said, "Go."

Gabriel pulled Castiel to the end of the hall and pushed open a window. "Quick, through here," he said.

Castiel climbed through the window without hesitation. He stepped out onto a fire escape. Gabriel followed him through and shut the window from the outside. They hurried down the fire escape. Gabriel extended the ladder in a rush. Castiel climbed down without being asked to do so.

Once on the ground, Gabriel ran to another window on the ground floor and pried it open. "C'mon," he said. The fear on Gabriel's face was something Castiel had never seen before. Gabriel's walls were gone, there was no pretending,no mask. There was just fear and pain and sadness. Castiel scurried through the ground floor window without a second thought.


End file.
